A Gilded Cage
by Merrie
Summary: Sequel to Broken Wings. A battle is waged for Jack's soul with Barbossa as one its warriors. Will our Sparrow be able to see a way out of the gilded cage that's closing in on him before all is lost? FINALLY UPDATED CHAPTER 15! Enjoy.
1. Prologue: Half Remembered Pasts

A Gilded Cage: Sequel to Broken Wings, Part II of the Fallen Sparrows Trilogy  
  
A Pirates of the Caribbean story by Merrie  
  
Disclaimer: They're still not mine. Although if they were...they'd probably all hate me for what I do to them, so I suppose it's just as well.  
  
Summary: Captain Jack has been possessed by a demon god by the name of Lorelac who's used Jack to become the most infamous, hated, and wanted pirate in the ocean. Can Jack reclaim his life back? Will Elizabeth and Will be able to help while encountering problems of their own? And what about Chief Norrington? Sequel to Broken Wings.  
  
Characters: Captain Jack Sparrow, Lorelac, Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann, Chief Norrington, many other random extras.  
  
Author's Note: See? I didn't make you wait that long, did I? Don't answer that. This is just the prologue, so it'll be short. But don't worry, there will be more soon. Oh! Also, I've only ever flown over England before, so the only thing I know about it is that it's shaped like it is on maps, ergo all the information about British geography is completely fabricated.  
  
Oh, and did you notice the title? I hadn't actually planned on writing a trilogy until I had already typed those words. I guess I'm committed now, huh?  
  
Rating: PG-13 for now, but likely to rise in later chapters to be safe. Stupid ff.net *boo, hiss*  
  
Prologue: Half-Remembered Pasts  
  
Kenworthy, England, 1673.  
  
"Edward! Are you quite sure you have everything? It will be a long journey!" Katrina Sperling called out to her young son.  
  
Edward John Corentin Alexandre Sperling, age 20, one day to be known to the world as the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his shoulder-length black hair in annoyance. It would have to be tied back in a minute, but that was the only thing he had left to do, as he had already informed his mother numerous times. "Yes mother," he called back, humoring her. "Are you sure you and Eva are going to be all right without me for a year?"  
  
Katrina Sperling came out onto the porch where her youngest child was sitting, unsuccessfully trying to tie his hair back with a piece of black ribbon. She smiled and moved her hands to help him. "Your sister will be fine. She's got Richard to look after her. Which brings me to a point; when are you going to take a wife? Your sister's only 2 years older than you and yet she's already been married for a year and expecting her first child," she prodded.  
  
"And her husband's 7 years older than me, mother," he pointed out with a smile. This was an argument they had had a lot in the last few months. It seemed almost as if she were trying to get him out of the house. 'Actually,' he mused, 'she doesn't need to try any longer. She's succeeded.' "Why do you insist that I take this voyage, mother? I hardly know Sebastian. He's 8 years older than me! And don't think for a second that I missed that you hadn't answered my question," he said, turning over his shoulder to give her a shrewd look once she had finished tying his hair back.  
  
Katrina sighed. Sometimes her son could be far too intuitive for his own good. "As for why you're going to meet your cousin on his ship and sail to the Caribbean, it'll be good for you to get out of the house for awhile and get some sun. You spend far too much time indoors with you books to be healthy, Edward," she said fondly, taking in his pale skin.  
  
"I like books," Jack muttered, not minding that his mother had insisted calling him by his disliked first name ever since he was born even though everyone else called him John or Jack. It was just her way.  
  
"I know you do. I've seen the case of them that you're bringing with you on the ship. But you'll love the sea, Edward. Your father always did," Katrina said with the same sad look she always got on her face when Jack's father was mentioned, even though he had been dead almost as long as Jack had been alive.  
  
"But what about you? Who will care for you while I'm gone? Who will protect you?" Jack prodded.  
  
She waved a hand at him with a frown. "Don't worry so much about me. I'll be fine. Worry after yourself. It's not an easy life at sea. There are many dangers you could encounter, my son."  
  
"What, like pirates?" Jack scoffed with a smile.  
  
"Yes, like pirates," she said with a fond look, running a hand along the top of his head lightly. "I will miss you, but it's for the best." She looked up and saw that Jack's carriage had arrived. "Now you'd better get going. Your carriage is here, and Sebastian won't like it if you're late."  
  
"I don't even get to say goodbye to Eva?" Jack asked with a small frown, thinking of being at sea for a year and not even telling his sister goodbye first.  
  
"She wanted to be here, but the doctor won't let her up and about with the baby coming so soon."  
  
"Whose birth I will miss," Jack grumbled. He adored his older sister, and to think that he wouldn't be around when she brought her first child into the world in a month or so gave him a sick feeling to his stomach.  
  
"You'll see them both soon, and her little daughter or son will have an uncle spoiling it rotten before you know it," Katrina said with a smile.  
  
"I pray that it will be a boy. There're too many women in this family as it is," Jack said with a rueful grin.  
  
"God save us. He'll turn out just like you, and where would your poor sister be then?" Katrina said, managing to keep her face utterly serious even though she was joking. She then leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek lightly. "You'd better go. Be careful, and come back to us soon," she said with a sad smile, leading him over to the carriage. The driver had already put Jack's large trunk inside, having no other place to put it. Jack stepped up on the step and sat down in the carriage, but didn't close the door. "We'll be fine, stop worrying. You'll see us again before you know it. Goodbye my little sparrow. Have a safe journey. I love you," she whispered the last, not wanting to embarrass him.  
  
Jack nodded to her, waving slowly himself, placing his black tri-corner hat on his head and closing the door without a second glance in his mother's direction. His thoughts were full of her though and her parting words. 'My little sparrow? She hasn't called me that since I was a child,' he thought to himself with a nostalgic look crossing his face. Once the carriage started its rough progress however, his thoughts drifted away from his mother and his home here in Kenworthy, to what the future would hold. 'I just hope I have some time to read my books.' He would be very happy when this little voyage would end. He didn't think he'd care for the sea very much, he didn't like the outdoors, and the few sailors he had met had been rude vile men, the lot of them. It was too much to hope that his cousin's crew would be any different.  
  
"And I'll save the thoughts of pirates for adventure stories," he muttered aloud to himself. It wasn't that he didn't believe in pirates, the ocean was a rather large place and he supposed pirates were only the sea version of highwaymen. But he seriously doubted they'd come across any.  
  
"We're here, sir," the driver said, standing at the now open door of the coach. Jack started in his seat, cursing himself for letting his thoughts run away with him like that. He hadn't even noticed that they had stopped.  
  
"Thank you," he said, stepping out of the carriage. His eyes were suddenly drawn upward to take in the seemingly topless masts of his cousin's ship, the Intrepid.  
  
"Edward! Is that you!" a loud voice called out causing Jack to wince.  
  
"Yes Sebastian, it's me. And if you could please call me Jack or John? No one calls me Edward except my mother," Jack mumbled under his breath.  
  
"Of course, Jack," Sebastian said, coming down the gangplank off of the ship so he could get a better look at Jack while he could do the same for his cousin. 28 year old Sebastian Sperling was a giant brute of a man, easily overbearing Jack's own lean form. He was a man who looked like he had grown used to long hours and hard work, his skin bronzed from the sun, his face cracked and wrinkled already. But his striking dark blue eyes combined with his shock of jet-black hair like Jack's own made for an intriguing combination, but would never make him handsome. "Are you ready for a little of the adventure you spend your days reading about in those books of yours?"  
  
"If you call sailing the seas pretty much aimlessly an adventure, then yes, I suppose I am," Jack couldn't stop himself from saying.  
  
Sebastian didn't seem offended however, and even let out a laugh deep from within his chest that made the dock beneath Jack's feet shake. "You've got spirit, good. You're going to need that. Now grab your belongings and let's depart. Everyone's been waiting on your arrival to leave, and now that you're here, we'd better start moving."  
  
"Wait, grab my trunk? Isn't the driver supposed to—" Jack started before being cut off.  
  
"Every member of my crew is to do their own work, Jack. That includes you. And while on board, you will address me as Captain Sperling. It's nothing personal; it's the way it is. On board, you're not my cousin, Edward John Corentin Alexandre Sperling; you're just Jack, the cabin boy. You have to make your own way. I refuse to resort to nepotism."  
  
"The what?!" Jack exclaimed in shock.  
  
"You're a little old for the position, I agree, but it's the only position for you here. You're mother wanted you on as a member of my crew rather than a passenger, and I will abide by her wishes. But if you find the same love for the sea that your father supposedly did, you'll do just fine."  
  
"The sea killed my father," Jack muttered under his breath.  
  
"What was that? I didn't hear you. You're going to have to learn to speak up if you want to be an effective member of this crew, Jack. Keep that in mind. I'll have one of the crew show you your bunk and where you can put your stuff." He whistled over a young boy who looked to be about 16. "This is Emmett. You're taking his place on board. He's become a full-time member of the crew now with your arrival. Listen to what he says. He'll teach you a lot." Without a further word, Captain Sperling turned and headed back up onto the ship, leaving Jack standing alone with the former cabin boy.  
  
"I'm Emmett Carrington," the young boy said, sticking out his hand. "But everyone just calls me Em or Emmett."  
  
"Jack Sperling," Jack said, sticking out his own hand albeit a bit reluctantly. Emmett's hands were covered in dirt and grime, a stark contrast to Jack's own hands that while may be a bit dust covered from handling old books, had probably never even seen dirt before. 'But it's a good idea to make friends. A year's a long time to be aboard a small ship filled with enemies,' Jack thought to himself, trying not to grimace as Emmett shook his hand enthusiastically before pausing and frowning.  
  
"Sperling? Not as in Captain Sperling?" he asked, finally releasing Jack's hand.  
  
"Yes, I'm his cousin. But he says I'm not supposed to talk about it. He said that I would have to make my own way aboard," Jack said with a slight sigh.  
  
"I understand," Emmett said after a moment's hesitation. "Shall I show you where you can put your things? The Captain doesn't like to be delayed long."  
  
"Yes, of course," Jack said, moving over to grab one of the handles of his trunk and managing to pull it a few feet before Emmett ran over to help him. "Thank you, but the Captain says I'm supposed to carry my own weight," Jack said, not bothering to hide a slightly annoyed look.  
  
"I'm sure the Captain won't mind. You can't exactly do much work aboard if you're rightly exhausted from carrying this trunk around, now can you?" Emmett asked, moving to pick up the other end of the trunk.  
  
"No, I suppose not. I appreciate your kindness," Jack said honestly.  
  
"Don't worry about it. You can just repay the kindness someday," he said with a smile before lifting the other end of the trunk with a frown. "Merciful cats, just what do you have in this thing? Rocks?"  
  
Jack laughed at that as they made their way slowly up the gangplank. "Books, actually. It's filled with my clothes and some of my books."  
  
"Some of your books? It feels like you've got a whole bleedin' library in here!" He shook his head with a short a laugh. "To each their own, I suppose. Now let's get this bloody heavy thing down by your hammock and I'll introduce you to the rest of the crew."  
  
Jack just nodded, trying not to think about being made to sleep on a hammock, and together the two of them made their slow progress into Jack's new home, neither of them turning back to catch a last glimpse of the port they were departing.  
  
***  
  
Lorelac sat up in his bed, gasping for breath. "Not another bloody one," he grumbled to himself, running hand through his shoulder-length straight dark hair, free of the ornaments Jack had liked to put in it save a rather inconspicuous looking gold chain with a bright blue jewel attached to it. "Sparrow, you bloody bastard. Keep your memories out of my head!" he yelled within the confines of his cabin, not expecting any one to answer. Jack had been silent within his head for months now; long enough for Lorelac to begin to hope that he was really gone for good. That is, until the nightmares had started coming. A ship's captain having screaming nightmares and unusual dreams every night was not good morale for a crew. A captain couldn't afford to show weakness, especially in front of a pirate crew such as his, or they'd tear him apart. Well, they'd try to, anyway.  
  
A gentle knocking sounded upon Lorelac's door, and with a scowl he threw back the bed sheets and stood up. Only one member of his crew would be foolish enough to disturb their captain: his first mate Rich O'Malley. "Captain Sparrow?" he called through the heavy door.  
  
Lorelac grimaced just like he did every time he heard Sparrow's name used as his own. He would have begun to use his own name, but Sparrow was simply to well known for that to work effectively. "Yes, I'm here. Come in."  
  
His first mate entered. "We've reached Tortuga sir. You wanted to be informed."  
  
"Yes. Now get out. I'll be on deck momentarily," he said with a wave of his hand in dismissal. He didn't miss the brief look of hatred that crossed O'Malley's face at that, but the man left without a word. At the mention of the pirate port city, a handful of images flashed across Lorelac's mind. He dimly felt the sting of a woman's slap across his face, and he raised a hand to it, expecting it to hurt under his gently probing fingers. Once he realized what he had been doing, he laid his hand back down upon his lap with a curse.  
  
"Damn you, Sparrow. Keep your bloody memories to yourself!" he yelled within the empty cabin, rising to his feet to get dressed. Before he pulled on a shirt to cover his naked chest however, he paused to look down upon the beautiful markings that now completely covered it, reminding him of another time and place. He absentmindedly traced a finger through a series of dark knots along his stomach with a smile. He had been bluffing with Sparrow somewhat when he said that the markings were his. He suspected that they were, but in truth he was just as surprised to see them as Sparrow had been. He often times looked them over and wondered at their purpose, but since they didn't seem to be causing him any trouble, he supposed they didn't really matter. He liked them, and that was all that mattered.  
  
He pulled on a pair of dark black pants over his stocking-covered legs and then moved to pull on a clean white linen shirt with billowed sleeves. That had been his first course of action on his new ship, in his new body; he had gotten rid of all traces of its previous owner. Well, almost all. He frowned as he pulled on a pair of dark suede boots and walked over to the large desk that inhabited a corner of the room. His frown deepened as he pulled open a drawer to look at the interior's contents as he had so many times before. Sparrow's many hair affixations and items of jewelry were gathered in a small bundle, mocking him. No matter how hard he had tried, he couldn't bring himself to get rid of them. They simply remained in the drawer untouched.  
  
With an irritated grunt he slammed the drawer shut and finished dressing, pulling on a jacket and affixing a sword to his waist before tying his hair back in a short ponytail and donning Jack's black tri-corner hat. That had been another thing he hadn't gotten rid of that had belonged to Sparrow. Not because he couldn't have, but because he actually liked the battered thing. Once he was fully presentable, he flung open the cabin door and strode purposefully out onto the deck. He had found the only way of controlling a bloodthirsty pirate crew was through intimidation, and he had no qualms in threatening any member of his crew's life should they disobey him, and even fewer qualms in carrying the threats out should his crew's actions deem necessary. This, combined with Sparrow's reputation of being a madman, only helped his game of intimidation along more.  
  
He walked up to the wheel and looked over the city of Tortuga in all of its dissolute splendor. It had been at least a month since he had allowed his crew leave there, and he decided that it was high time he'd visited again. He glanced up at his Pearl's dark sails fluttering in the wind, and felt a swell of something deep inside him, perhaps pride. He had turned the Black Pearl into the most feared pirate ship in the ocean over the last month, and while it had been bloody hard work, it had been more than worth it. Especially when he caught the sight of fear on neighboring ship's captain's faces as they passed. He liked seeing that fear. He reveled in it. He reveled even more to hear whispering that the Pearl was even more feared now than it had been under Barbossa's reign.  
  
"Weigh anchor and prepare to disembark!" he shouted at his gathered crew. They let out a loud cheer and he almost smiled. Mortals were so easy to influence. Threaten and torture them to get them to do what you wanted, and bribe them when they did. "If you're not back aboard in 5 days I won't leave you here, I'll hunt you down and kill you. Savvy?" he asked, giving every crew member that dared make eye contact with a hard look. "If that's clear, you're free to depart." There was no cheering this time, just silent acceptance as his crew lowered the lifeboats and left the ship.  
  
He watched them go, leaning against one of the Pearl's railings, thinking about where to go next. The answer came to him almost immediately. Port Royal. He smirked; thinking of the looks on Elizabeth's and Turner's faces and went to join his crew, whistling softly under his breath. If he had bothered to listen to himself, he might have noticed that the song he so absently whistled was Jack's favorite, 'A Pirate's Life for Me.'  
  
TBC  
  
A/N: Well, that was fun. :-D Are you liking this so far? Sorry this chapter was so short. It was only the prologue after all. I have a question for all of you, do you think I should keep up the alliteration with the chapter titles in this story? Like Death and Destruction, Natives and Norrington, Death and Denial? Or are you tired of it? Just a thought. Well, the next chapter should be up hopefully soon! Please send me your reviews!!  
  
Reviewer Thanks Section  
  
Savvy Renegade: I'm glad you liked it, HF! :-D  
  
Lady Russell Holmes: Bonus ending indeed. Sorry the sequel wasn't up sooner!  
  
Otherhawk: I love happy endings! But for some reason, I couldn't write one. But it wasn't totally sad, right? More ambiguous? Everyone's still alive, and that's happy, or something. ;-) Thanks for the comment about the alternate ending. Death is never easy in fanfic.  
  
pendragginink: Jack may be able to come back, maybe. It'll be a long, hard journey ahead, but don't give up on him. The story's not over until I write The End at the bottom. Keep that in mind. ;-)  
  
Mara: Yes, Norry is wonderful. I love that man. :-D Don't worry; there will be lots of Norry goodness in this story. I'm not done with him yet. And the natives aren't either.  
  
Estelio*Duredhel: Sorry you found the story again so late. But yes, the sequel. And here it is. I hope you like it so far.  
  
Jackfan2: Awwwww, what a lovely review!! Thanks!! Sorry I couldn't post this sooner for you!!  
  
Blue Trinity: Hmm...if the jewel is still in one piece once I'm through with it, sure you can have it. If Ana had picked up instead? Gah, I can't even begin to imagine that scenario. Let's just say...Jack was meant to pick it up. Yeah, that works. :-D  
  
BURN THE R.U.M.: If you noticed at the top, this sequel will have a sequel. So the chances of this story ending happily aren't very good at the moment. Sorry. But as I just started this story, anything can happen, so we'll just have to wait and see together.  
  
Jack_roks: I'm glad you like it! I hope to see you for the sequel too!  
  
Thank you again to all of you who went back and sent me multiple reviews for Broken Wings. You guys are the best!!! :-D :-D  
  
-Merrie 


	2. Chapter 1: New Discoveries, Numb Disbeli...

A Gilded Cage: Sequel to Broken Wings, Part II of the Fallen Sparrows Trilogy  
  
A Pirates of the Caribbean story by Merrie  
  
Disclaimer: They're still not mine. Although if they were...they'd probably all hate me for what I do to them, so I suppose it's just as well.  
  
Summary: Captain Jack has been possessed by a demon god by the name of Lorelac who's used Jack to become the most infamous, hated, and wanted pirate in the ocean. Can Jack reclaim his life back? Will Elizabeth and Will be able to help while encountering problems of their own? And what about Chief Norrington? Sequel to Broken Wings.  
  
Characters: Captain Jack Sparrow, Lorelac, Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann, Chief Norrington, many other random extras.  
  
Author's Note: Ok, I am SOOOO sorry for not getting this up sooner! I've been sick and trying to muddle my way through the last weeks of school and I'm sure you don't want to hear my excuses so I'll shut up and let you read the story now...  
  
Oh! By the way, I turned 21! On the day Secret Window was released! :-D Happy B-Day to me!  
  
Rating: PG-13 for now, but likely to rise in later chapters to be safe. Stupid ff.net *boo, hiss*  
  
Chapter 1: New Discoveries, Numb Disbelief and Near Deaths  
  
'If there was such a thing as hell on Earth, the last month since the day Captain Jack Sparrow had lost his life to a demon god by the name of Lorelac certainly fit the bill,' Elizabeth thought to herself with a weary frown walking slowly to Port Royal's only doctor. She could have taken her family carriage, but she didn't want to alarm anyone so she walked alone. The solitude as she walked gave her much time to think over the events of the last month. She, Will and Norrington had had no luck tracking down Jack. What little they had heard of him and the Black Pearl was too horrible to associate with their pirate friend so they knew Lorelac must still be in control of him. The thought of that demon using Jack to do some of the things she had heard rumors about; he was quickly making a name for himself as the most bloodthirsty and ruthless pirate in not only the Spanish Main, but the entire ocean turned her stomach. They, and seemingly the entire British Navy had been searching for Jack and the Pearl relentlessly for the last few weeks now with no luck. It was actually rather extraordinary how Lorelac had managed to make such a name for himself in such a short period of time if Elizabeth was being honest with herself.  
  
Thoughts of the military immediately brought Norrington and his current troubles into mind. When Lorelac had abandoned them to his island that long month ago, they had been forced to make their way to one of the nearby inhabited islands where Elizabeth was stunned to learn that James had been made the chief of their people. James, being the honorable man that he was threw himself fully into his responsibilities regarding them, much to the displeasure of the British Royal Navy. They didn't approve of one of their highest ranking Commodore's gallivanting off at every opportunity to some little no-name island. Norrington hadn't shared his reasons for going, nor the island's location for fear it might be overrun by British soldiers, and that wasn't looked upon well either. In short, being a Chief had gotten him into more trouble than being a Commodore ever had. Not that he was likely to remain a commodore for very much longer at this rate. She had heard rumors that certain people in very high positions in the British military had suggested that he be forcefully discharged from service. Elizabeth prayed with every fibre of her being that that would not come to pass. Norrington had been in the military for as long as she had known him; quite a long a time, and she didn't know how such a change would affect him.  
  
She slowed her pace a little; trying to seem as nonchalant as possible should she attract attention. She didn't want any of the rather...overprotective men in her life to find out where she was going. Especially Will. It had been almost three months since she and Will had gotten engaged, and yet the remained unwed. It hadn't seemed right somehow with all that was happening around them. They both were still very much in love and more than willing to spend their lives together no matter how long it took for their vows to be spoken, but yet they had waited. The decision had been mutual. Neither of them wanted to be married if Jack couldn't attend the wedding. So they had waited. While yes, they were both more than willing to wait, the...celibacy had been somewhat difficult in the last month. She had wanted to save herself until after she was an honest woman, and that hadn't changed. She tried to put the unbidden thought of the reason of her journey to the doctor's today; the she was no longer an honest woman, out of her mind. 'Dear God, don't let it be true,' she prayed fervently for what seemed like the hundredth time during her walk to Dr. Farthing's home and office.  
  
"Ah, Miss Swann what a surprise. I do hope you are not unwell," Dr. Farthing's kind voice called from the front porch, startling Elizabeth out of her thoughts. She hadn't even noticed that she had come to her destination. Her feet had carried her there of their own will.  
  
"I need to speak with you in private," Elizabeth said softly, looking at old doctor with a direct stare.  
  
"Of course. Come inside please," the doctor said, his friendly tone of voice becoming all business. Elizabeth followed him into his house and office, casting a glance around the room for a nurse or perhaps a secretary that might see her here and wonder. It wouldn't do to go through all the trouble of being secretive to have your afternoon's activities gossiped around town.  
  
Dr. Farthing noticed her glance and commented, "It's just the two of us for right now. Most of the women are out on lunch."  
  
Elizabeth couldn't keep the relief from showing in her face. The doctor noticed, but didn't speak as he led her into his office and closed the door behind them. He then took a seat behind a large wooden desk, clasping his hands in front of him. "Now, how can I help you, Miss Swann?"  
  
Elizabeth opened her mouth to explain her...situation, but she couldn't utter a word. It was as if someone had closed a fist around her throat.  
  
"Miss Swann? Are you alright, my dear?" the doctor asked softly.  
  
"No, I'm not. I think I'm...pregnant," Elizabeth whispered, her eyes going wide.  
  
"I see. Does Mr. Turner know about this? I assume he does, correct?" the doctor asked kindly, thankfully not berating Elizabeth for her unwed status.  
  
The tears Elizabeth had been vainly attempting to hold back now came forth without restraint. "I don't think... It's not Will's," she sobbed, placing her face into her cupped hands, unable to meet the doctor's eyes for one moment longer.  
  
"Oh. Then I suppose Mr. Turner doesn't know, does he?" the doctor asked softly, lifting Elizabeth's head up in one hand. "Why have you come to me, Elizabeth? Do you intend to keep the baby?"  
  
"I-I don't know. I wanted to be sure I really was pregnant. But don't think I cheated on my fiancé, Dr. Farthing. I didn't. I was...forced," she said quietly, looking away from his face again.  
  
"Dear God. Have you told no one of this?" She shook her head. "Elizabeth, you must tell someone. Justice must be served. You cannot ask me to keep this to myself."  
  
"You must! I cannot tell Will. It would crush him. And the man who did it..." she closed her eyes, thinking of Jack. "He's out of reach. But I don't blame him. It wasn't his fault."  
  
"Listen to yourself! Of course it was his fault! Things like this don't just happen, Elizabeth. This man forced you, you said it yourself. He chose to...rape you. Will you tell me who he is?" he asked, not expecting her to.  
  
"No. That's my secret to keep. And I will keep it. You must tell no one of this," she told him, meeting his eyes with a steely gaze.  
  
"Elizabeth, if you decide to keep the baby, Will's going to find out sooner or later," the doctor said softly, looking down at her still flat stomach.  
  
Elizabeth followed his eyes and placed a hand on her middle protectively. "I will deal with that when the time comes. Perhaps Will won't understand. Perhaps he'll leave me. But I won't give up my child, Dr. Farthing. No matter how it was created."  
  
Dr. Farthing sighed. "That's your choice. Come here and let me take a look at you," he requested, gesturing for her to take a seat upon the large table that dominated the office.  
  
Elizabeth nodded and did as he asked.  
  
***  
  
'This can't be happening,' Elizabeth thought to herself, walking away from Dr. Farthing's office. 'How could this have happened?' Dr. Farthing had confirmed her worst fears. She was pregnant. With Jack's child. "What am I going to do?" she asked herself softly, stopping in the middle of the street. She had meant it when she had said she wasn't going to give up the baby. 'Jack's baby, oh God.' She set off again, desperately trying to think of how she was ever going to face her fiancé again.  
  
***  
  
"He must be stopped, Will. He's killing people," Commodore and Chief James Norrington said quietly. "Sparrow's gone."  
  
"I refuse to believe that," Will said quietly across the table where the two of them sat. "He can beat Lorelac, I know it," he stressed with conviction.  
  
"How can you be so sure? It's been nearly a month, Will. Have you any idea the things he's done in that time?" Norrington asked with a frown. "The people he and his crew have killed?"  
  
"Yes, I know, alright? I've heard the same stories you have. I know he's single-handedly made the Black Pearl and its crew into the most feared band of pirates in the Caribbean, alright?"  
  
"Then you know that the entire Royal Navy has made it its goal to hunt them down and kill them all? Including Jack? They don't even want him hung necessarily anymore, Will. They just want him dead. Do you understand that?"  
  
"Yes. I do. That's why we need to find him first. He needs our help. And yes, he has to be stopped. Or rather, Lorelac does."  
  
Norrington sighed and shook his head. "How do you propose we find him, then? It's been a month, Will and no one's been able to find him. Not you, not the Royal Navy, no one. It's like he's a ghost."  
  
It was Will's turn to sigh. "I know. I don't know where to begin looking for him. I've sent word to what few people I've met in Tortuga but I'm afraid they're not the reliable sort. I haven't heard anything from them yet."  
  
"I haven't heard anything from the native scouts I sent out either," Norrington said with a sigh.  
  
"How are you managing with that? Being chief and all?" Will asked curiously.  
  
"It's harder than I thought it would be. I mean, I'm no fool, I knew it would be difficult to lead and rule and take care of an entire island of people, but I really had no idea. And I'm afraid its going to get me discharged," he said quietly, looking down at the table in front of him.  
  
"What are you talking about? They can't do that!" Will stated with conviction.  
  
"They can and it looks like they will," Norrington said with a sigh, taking a long swallow of the drink Will had given him that up until now had sat unattended.  
  
"What will you do afterwards?" Will asked softly, not quite believing that Norrington could be anything other than a military man. He had been for as long as he had known him, and he would continue to be one even longer still. Wouldn't he?  
  
Norrington took a long look at him then, the expression on his face becoming unreadable. "I don't know," he said quietly at long last. "The military is all I know. I can't imagine myself not on a ship surrounded by men under my command. I just can't."  
  
"Well, you could always be a pirate," Will joked, trying to lighten the mood a little.  
  
Norrington glared at him automatically before sighing and looking down at the tabletop. It was then that Will knew the situation was serious. He actually looked as if he might be considering it! "It was just a joke, James. I mean, come on. You, a pirate? No one would believe it!"  
  
"I know, Will. But without the military, what is there? I don't know anything else. My life has been spent on the sea. It's what I know. I'm not saying I'm about to jump aboard a pirate ship this very second or anything, I'm not that far gone, thank you, but I know that if I do get discharged I will find my way aboard a ship again. No matter what it takes."  
  
"You're really serious, aren't you? You would really become a pirate just for the chance to stay on the ocean? Does it really mean that much to you?" Will asked with a frown, clearly not understanding his feelings.  
  
"You don't understand, Will. The sea...it's...it's my world," Norrington said, sounding a bit uncomfortable. "Nevermind, alright? Forget I said anything."  
  
"You sound like Jack when you talk like that, do you realize that?" Will asked softly. "He's always tried to convince me that the sea was alive somehow. That it had a will of its own."  
  
"It does. It always has. It's hard to explain to someone who obviously hasn't noticed it," Norrington said, not trying to sound arrogant, merely stating a fact. "You were never meant for life as a pirate, or even necessarily on the sea, were you?"  
  
Will didn't take offense. "No, I don't think I ever was. I like it on land. I like what I do. I like the feel of creating something with my own to hands. I like seeing a sword take shape from almost nothingness and knowing that I made it that way."  
  
Norrington nodded. It was all he could do. He didn't understand Will's love for crafting swords any more than Will understood his love for the sea. Some things simply could not be explained to people who didn't feel the same way.  
  
Both men sat in silence for a long moment after that until their silence was interrupted by the creaking of the front door. Both men stood as Elizabeth stepped into the smithy, her eyes slightly widened to see them both there. "James, what are you doing here?" she asked, sounding a bit flustered.  
  
"I though I'd join you and Will out to lunch but when I found that you weren't here Will and I just got to talking," he said with a smile. He then took a close look at her; taking in her slightly pallid coloring to the minute trembling of her hands at her sides. "Elizabeth? Are you alright?"  
  
"I'm, yes I'm fine," Elizabeth said, shaking head slightly as if to clear her thoughts. "Don't worry about me. It's good to see you James. It's been nearly two weeks, hasn't it?" She asked, coming inside to take a seat at the table as well. When she had settled herself, the two men reclaimed their own seats as well.  
  
"Yes it has, and I'll tell you all about it if you and Will will accompany me out to lunch. My treat. No offense to Mr. Turner here, but a smithy is hardly the place for a young woman such as yourself to be having lengthy conversations," he said with a smile in Will's direction to let him know that he didn't mean any offense by it.  
  
"James is right. Let's go, Elizabeth. Unless you've already eaten, that is?" he asked. He didn't know where Elizabeth had gone, and he wouldn't if she didn't want him knowing. But it didn't stop him from wondering.  
  
"No, no I haven't. Lunch right now sounds positively wonderful. I'm feeling a bit tired at the moment, but mostly I'm just starving."  
  
"What's the matter, haven't you had anything to eat today? You should have told me. I could have fixed you something," Will said with a slight frown.  
  
"No, I've already eaten. I'm just...hungry again. That's all," Elizabeth said with a small frown, not meeting her fiancé's eyes. When she looked up again, her frown was gone and a bright smile lit up her face, one that seemed a little forced if you were watching her closely, and said "Shall we go?"  
  
The men nodded and together the three of them made their way out of the smithy, exchanging light conversation as they walked, each of them desperately trying to dwell on the fact that their friend Captain Jack Sparrow was still in desperate need of their help even more so than before. Besides, what could they do to stop a god?  
  
***  
  
Lorelac sat alone at a small table in the middle of a bustling pub in Tortuga. He had already been approached by a number of whores probably recognizing Sparrow and looking for an evening's entertainment, but after the first few threats they had learned to leave him well enough alone. In fact, most of the people he had encountered had left him alone, but he could hear their whispered comments as he passed. And he reveled in it. He had made the Black Pearl and its crew a thing to be feared. There was not a man on the entire island who had not heard of him and his exploits.  
  
He felt eyes on him as he moved and couldn't hold back the smirk from crossing his lips as he took a long gulp of the rum in front of him. Upon the first taste he tried not to wince, he had never much cared for the drink, but mugs overflowing with the stuff were placed in front of him automatically in whatever pub he went to, and it would be hard to keep refusing them so he merely gave up and drank the foul stuff. He would have much preferred something like brandy, but such a drink was not to be found in seedy places like this. There were generally three choices of drink he had discovered; rum, grog, and ale. He didn't really care for any of them. So he merely sat there alone, drinking the wretched drink, and rubbing absently at his left temple in a gesture that he didn't seem to be entirely aware of.  
  
The other thing he didn't seem to be aware of was the small group of his crewmembers gathered at a table close by, every one of them starting with hate-filled eyes upon his solitary form. "We can't bloody go on like this. That madman has made us all hunted men," a man by the name of Lewiston grumbled, his eyes on Lorelac's form.  
  
There were assents from the other men. "He's going to get us all hung! Or worse!" another man muttered, his voice raised slightly. His crewmates immediately shushed him and cast wary glances toward their captain. Thankfully, Lorelac didn't seem to have heard.  
  
"You bloody fool, Johnston, I think you're the one that's going to get us all killed. You know as well as I do what Sparrow'll do to us if he thinks we're plannin' on mutinying, now don't you?" Lewiston reminded him, thinking back on all the crewmembers they had lost to their captain's judgement.  
  
Johnson's eyes widened and he grew a bit pale as he looked over to where Lorelac was sitting; grimacing into his mug of rum. "We-we are still plannin' on doing it though, aren't we?" he asked in a whisper. "Mutinying?"  
  
"Of course we bloody well are!" Lewiston hissed. "How are we supposed to make a living under the kind of heat that madman brings us? Did you know that the entire Royal Navy had been instructed to shoot us on sight, no questions asked?" There were murmurs of shock and disbelief at that declaration, so Lewiston went on. "It's true. I've seen the wanted posters, and unlike you scabberous lot, I can actually read. If they can hang us, they will. But mostly they just want us all dead. Sparrow especially."  
  
"Then I guess we'll be doing them a favor then, aye?" Johnston whispered darkly, running a hand on the hilt of his sword and favoring Lorelac's back with a wicked look  
  
"O'Malley and most of the crew is already on our side and ready to go. Gentleman, we move tonight," Lewiston said slowly, his voice growing cold. "And it'll be the last night that bastard ever sees."  
  
***  
  
'How interesting,' Lorelac thought to himself with malicious intent. 'A merry gathering of my beloved crew. And yet they've neglected to include their captain, how rude. It looks like they're going to mutiny,' the word put a bad taste in the back of his mouth and odd flashes of images across his eyes; tropical beaches, rum, and...sea turtles? Lorelac shook his head to clear his (Jack's) thoughts and turned his attention back to his mutinous crew, being careful not to let them know that he was on to their plans. 'It sure took them bloody long enough. I thought for sure they'd have mutinied weeks ago from the way I've been treating them. Oh well. Better late than never, I suppose. Not that'll do them any good.'  
  
He dropped a few gold coins on the table top and stood, exaggerating his movements to make it seem as if he were more drunk than in reality. It would cause his enemies to underestimate him, he knew. Sparrow oftentimes used the same tactic, and he had learned of it through the ex pirate captain's memories once he had taken possession of him. He stumbled his way to and out through the front door of the inn/pub, taking care to both assure that the members of his duplicitous crew would follow and that they wouldn't notice him noticing them.  
  
To their credit, they were doing a passable job in following him through the streets of Tortuga in such a large group without being noticed. That earned them a slightly quicker death, if nothing else. He smirked when a rather drunken looking whore stumbled over to him and put an arm around his waist, whispering loudly in his ear about the fun that might be had throughout the night. Lorelac let her talk, not really interested as she was probably the single ugliest woman he had ever seen, but because it made him seem even more unaware of his crew's presence. He smirked to himself as their stalking became even more bold, and they made their presence known. "Sparrow!" the likely ringleader shouted, a man by the name of Lewiston if he remembered correctly. He had never liked the little weasel of a man, but his skills up in the rigging of a ship especially through a storm were unmatched.  
  
"Go's away, ye'r interruptin' mates. Cantst ye see 'm busy here?" he drawled slowly, waving a hand as if to ward them off.  
  
"We're not going anywhere, Sparrow," Lewiston spoke again, his voice cold. "And neither are you." He addressed the ugly whore at Lorelac's side, "Leave or we'll kill you too. I won't tell you again, ye ugly hag."  
  
The whore looked at Lewiston with a perplexed look on her face, as if she wasn't quite aware of what was happening around her. Her eyes were then drawn to Lewiston's pistol pointed out in front of him aimed at Jack's chest and took off running without another word.  
  
"Ye can never find good whores anymore. They always run off at the first sign of trouble. Isn't that right, mates?" he asked them loudly, spreading his hands wide in a flamboyant gesture fit for Captain Jack Sparrow himself, not just his body. "Well go ahead, lads. Are you going to shoot me or aren't you?" Lorelac asked with a sneer, all pretenses at being drunk gone. He pulled open his shirt and bared his chest to them. "Well, go on. You've got me in your sights. Do it."  
  
"You're a madman, do you realize that? You're acting as if you really want us to kill you." One of the crewmembers said in a quiet voice.  
  
"Well of course I'm bloody mad! I'm mad Captain Jack Sparrow, everyone knows that! But in fact I'll tell you a secret," he whispered loud enough for them all to hear. "I'm not really him at all. In fact, I've just taken possession of his body. My real name's Lorelac. And I'm a demonic god of mischief. Did you know that? I bet you didn't. Mortals today have forgotten so many of the old beliefs," he said with a mournful sigh. "But I intend to change all of that. I intend to make mortals fear me once more. Perhaps it's an unachievable goal, but I don't think so. And I've certainly got the bloody time to figure it out, now don't I? Well, I guess I don't from your point of view since you intend on killing me right now. But I guess that's your business, not mine."  
  
"I should shoot you on principle right not just to get you to shut the bleedin' hell up!" Lewiston shouted at him, cocking the trigger on his pistol.  
  
"And I should put myself out of my misery so I don't have to deal with your cowardice any longer. Are you going to bloody shoot me or aren't you? Get O'Malley, my ever-trusted first mate to do it. I see him skulking around behind you. Step out and show yourself, Rich." The man in question did take a step forward and Lorelac laughed. "Well isn't this a grand little gathering! Why you've almost the whole crew! Let me guess, you couldn't get the others to come because they were too bloody drunk to move. Am I right, lads?"  
  
When the first shot came, Lorelac was actually surprised. He looked down to his chest where bright red blood was now saturating his white shirt. "Well it looks like one of you isn't a coward after all. How about that? Well whoever shot me first be good enough to step forward so I can congratulate you?"  
  
No one stepped forward, but many of the group took a step back to see that he was still alive and talking with a gaping bullet wound in the middle of his chest. "You, you're supposed to be dead! I bloody shot you!" it was O'Malley, his former first mate who spoke.  
  
"Did you now?" He looked down at his bloodied chest and smirked. "It seems you did. Nice shot, by the way. If I was mortal it would have killed me instantaneously."  
  
"If you were mortal?" O'Malley repeated in a stunned voice.  
  
"I take it you weren't paying attention to the part where I said I was a demonic god of mischief? Too bad. You might have saved yourself some trouble. And a bullet."  
  
"What are you?" Lewiston asked, his voice not sounding half as confident any longer.  
  
Lorelac rolled his eyes. "Because you didn't deem my words worthy enough to pay attention to, you get to die," he shot the man in the chest with Jack's pistol and watched impassively as he fell to the ground dead. "Now, who's next?"  
  
***  
  
Less than an hour later Lorelac was looking over the carnage he had wrought with a frown. "Bloody perfect. How am I supposed to get to Port Royal without a crew? I guess I'll just have to create another one," he muttered with a sigh, stepping over the body of one of his fallen crewmates and made his way to one of Tortuga's more seedy bars to recruit again, whistling softly under his breath. If anyone close enough to him was still alive to heard they might have been confused as to why anyone would want to sing about "really bad eggs," unless they were acquainted with either the song or the man himself. And acquaintances of Captain Jack Sparrow seemed to be fewer and fewer these days.  
  
TBC  
  
A/N: Ok again, I'm sorry this took so long to post. The next one will be much sooner in coming, I promise. I wouldn't leave my dear readers at a cliffhanger for that long.  
  
The real reason I've waited so long to update this is because I've started a new OUATIM story with co-author Neon Daises on www. adultfanfiction.net entitled More Than Darkness, a cross over between our two stories Darkness Rising and More Than Eyes Alone Can See. It's almost 250 pages long and rated NC-17. It's been getting a lot of praise and if you're of age I invite you to come and check it out. It's in the OUATIM section under the penname S_and_M.  
  
Reviewer's Thanks Section  
  
Miss Becky: My lovely beta reader. Sorry you didn't get a chance to review this before posting it. It probably needed it, but I just wanted to get it posted and done before too much more time had passed. Thanks for the review, and I hope to see you for the next chapter soon!  
  
Otherhawk: Writing Jack as a bookish geek is fun. Everyone should try it. Yes, Lorelac is a complete bastard. I don't disagree with you there. He needs to pay for what he's done. And he will. Sooner or later... I'm glad you like the allusion to the Code line. I can come up with stuff like that every once and awhile. ;-) Thanks for reviewing!!  
  
Penddranginink: So many questions. I wish I had answers for you, but Lorelac is being rather closed-lipped about his intentions for the moment. I don't exactly know what he's up to, but I know it's nothing good. Thanks for the review!!  
  
Neon D: I'm glad you liked it. And get the notion of dead Jack out of your head, my sadistic friend! Write your own story if you want that to happen! I'm not done torturing my Jack yet! Um, whoops...did I say that out loud??  
  
Jackie Rose Sparrow: Yes a sequel. This one's going to be fun. To answer your question, nearly a month has passed between the two stories. Thanks for your continued reviews!  
  
Miss Anya: Sorry this chapter couldn't come quicker for you! I promise the next one will! Thanks for reviewing!!  
  
Jack_roks: I'm glad you like the alliterated chapters. They're fun to think up. It gives my internal thesaurus a workout. Thanks for reading!  
  
Mara: Yes, at last. It's going to be a wild ride, I can tell you that. And of course there are many somethings I'm not telling you about Jack's past! That's what makes me an evil author! *cackles* I can't wait to see more of Edward either. He's refreshing to write so don't doubt that you'll see him again soon.  
  
Savvy Renegade: Thanks for reviewing HF! It's always great to hear from you!  
  
Ravenmuse: Yea! I've got someone hooked on my story! *does Snoopy dances* Er...thanks for reading. Don't worry. Lorelac will get a good squashing sooner or later.  
  
Padme: It's ok. I understand being tired. The last chapter was mostly flashback into Jack's past when he was only in his early 20s. The rest of the story takes place in the present as far as the story line goes. This chapter took place entirely in the present. I hope this helps and thanks for reading!  
  
Jackfan2: Jack's not beaten yet, have no fear. He's gathering his strength, I tell you. And when he's ready, Lorelac's going to pay. *evil grin* As for when that will be....you're guess is as good as mine at this point. Jack's not talking. Thanks for reading!!  
  
BURN THE R.U.M.: Aww, don't worry, BTRUM, I love happy endings. Deep down I'm a big old softy romantic at heart who has inexplicably taken to writing unbelievably angsty stories lately for no reason at all. Anyway, thanks for the review!!  
  
Mistress of Destruction: Lorelac's not stupid necessarily, he's arrogant. And you know what they say, "pride goeth before a fall." And yes, he will fall. Thanks for reviewing!!  
  
Holliday1081: Thanks for reading!! I'm glad you're liking it! I'm also very interested in seeing how I turn a Sperling into a Sparrow as well. I guess we'll just have to find out together. ;-)  
  
To any of my readers who didn't review or whom I might have missed, now's your chance! More reviews means more chapters quicker! That's a promise!! And don't forget to check out my OUATIM story if you're of age. Come see what's keeping me away from Jack for so long.  
  
Ta mates,  
  
-Merrie 


	3. Chapter 2: Captains and Commodores

A Gilded Cage: Sequel to Broken Wings, Part II of the Fallen Sparrows Trilogy  
  
A Pirates of the Caribbean story by Merrie  
  
Disclaimer: They're still not mine. Although if they were...they'd probably all hate me for what I do to them, so I suppose it's just as well.  
  
Summary: Captain Jack has been possessed by a demon god by the name of Lorelac who's used Jack to become the most infamous, hated, and wanted pirate in the ocean. Can Jack reclaim his life back? Will Elizabeth and Will be able to help while encountering problems of their own? And what about Chief Norrington? Sequel to Broken Wings.  
  
Characters: Captain Jack Sparrow, Lorelac, Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann, Chief Norrington, many other random extras.  
  
Author's Note: This turned out to be a fairly Norry-centric chapter. I'm not entirely sure how that happened, it just did. I guess the fellow's got a lot to say. shrug  
  
Rating: PG-13 for now, but likely to rise in later chapters to be safe. Stupid ff.net boo, hiss  
  
Chapter 2: Captains and Commodores  
  
"We'll be at Port Royal within the hour, sir," one of Lorelac's few new crewmembers spoke tentatively to him as he stood at the wheel. He hadn't been able to find as many men as he had wanted to; word had gotten around Tortuga of how he had dispatched his old crew, but he had enough to make it Port Royal at least.  
  
Getting into Port Royal itself would be somewhat troublesome due to the reputation he had made for himself-Sparrow-over the last month. "Have you thought about how you're going to enter the town without being arrested and hung, sir?" the crewman asked boldly, surprising Lorelac. He must have not heard the stories about me.  
  
"Are you questioning me?" Lorelac asked coldly, looking the man straight in the eye.  
  
"N-no sir," the man stuttered, tensing as Lorelac's mood shifted to hostile. "I was merely curious, sir. It won't happen again."  
  
"See that it doesn't, lad. I wouldn't want to lose you just yet," Lorelac said slowly, his demeanour leaving nothing in his words to misinterpret. The crewmember gulped and nodded, turning quickly and practically running back down to the deck.  
  
Lorelac watched him run, not bothering to hide his amusement. He hadn't really needed a crew, truth be told. It was within his power to call up the winds to sail the ship without the aid of a crew, but they were a good source of amusement if nothing else. And if he was willing to admit he was fallible-which he wasn't-the use of his powers could be taxing over long periods of time.  
  
He raised his left hand up to rub at his temple in an absent-minded gesture as he thought over the past few days. He had had quite a bit of trouble finding crewmen willing to accompany him, or even to speak with him in Tortuga. They all knew how sailing with him could mean their very lives, and most of them were unwilling to take that risk. "Bloody cowards," he muttered under his breath. "If I had my old crew back I'd be set. Gibbs, Anamaria, Mr. Cotton, all of them—" Lorelac cut off the statement with a strangled gasp. "They're dead, Sparrow. You got them killed. Now keep your bloody thoughts to yourself!" he whispered frantically under his breath. That was another thing; Sparrow was beginning to whisper to him again. Something that shouldn't have been possible. He should have been gone. Lorelac couldn't understand it, and combined with the memories he was haunted with now even while he was still awake, he was beginning to fear for what little sanity he had. "Damn you, Sparrow! You cannot defeat me! I am a god!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, uncaring of who saw him and what they thought. This had to stop.

WWW

"That will be all, thank you Gillette. Could you ask Norrington to come in here please?" Admiral Kleeson asked, not looking up from the paper he was reading on his desk as he addressed the young redcoat in his office.  
  
"Of course, Admiral Kleeson, sir," Gillette said with a short bow before turning on a polished heel and walking out into the waiting area outside of the Admiral's office where Norrington stood waiting.  
  
"He's ready to see you now, Commodore," Gillette said, trying unsuccessfully not to smile smugly in his once superior's face. Norrington was a good man-he didn't deserve this-but he wasn't going to give up his own career just for one good man.  
  
"From that smile on your face, Gillette, I'd say my title is no more than a formality now, am I correct?" Norrington asked calmly. "Or shall I call you Commodore from now on?"  
  
"Don't take it personally, Norrington. You're a good man, and I respect you, but you've broken one too many rules to get off this time," Gillette said slowly.  
  
"So it would seem," Norrington turned and made his way into the Admiral's office without another word.  
  
"Norrington, so good of you to join me. Please, take a seat. Would you like a drink?" Admiral Kleeson asked, rising from his chair to greet him and making a preemptive move toward the liquor cabinet.  
  
"I'd rather stand, and no thank you. What is this all about sir? Am I to assume I'm being discharged from service?" Norrington asked slowly, forcing his emotions off of his face.  
  
"Straight to the point as usual," Kleeson commented, moving to sit back down at his desk. "I've always liked that about you." He sighed and placed his arms on the deck, interlacing his fingers. "As for your discharge, I'm afraid you leave us no choice."  
  
"Do I get to ask why or am I just supposed to say thank you? Sir." The sir was added as an afterthought.  
  
"That sounded very close to insubordination, Norrington," Admiral Kleeson said slowly, his eyes narrowing.  
  
"I meant no disrespect sir," Norrington said, lying through his teeth and hoping that the Admiral wouldn't pick up on it.  
  
Admiral Kleeson narrowed his eyes again, but didn't comment. "You're being discharged for a number of reasons, but officially for "conduct unbecoming a man of your rank."  
  
"Conduct unbecoming a man of my rank," Norrington repeated slowly, not really believing it. "And what the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" he asked with a raised voice. It wasn't a yell, but it was definitely above his normal even-toned voice.  
  
"Take care, Norrington. I can always have you flogged to go along with your discharge if that is your wish," Admiral Kleeson said coldly.  
  
Norrington just barely kept his tongue. "You said I was being discharged for a 'number of reasons.' What are the others?" he asked evenly.  
  
"Let me be frank, Norrington," the Admiral said slowly. "While I may admire you-or at least your methods at times-I have never liked you. You were always far too arrogant for your own good. You've had a stellar career, don't get me wrong, but you've stepped on more than a few toes in getting there and what's more I don't even think you're fully aware of it. You don't have a lot of friends in the Navy, Norrington, I think you're aware of that at least. A good deal of the men dare I say-even 'hate' you for your present rank. You're a young man and yet you've one of the highest ranks in the Navy. You've upset more than a few people getting there."  
  
"So that's the reason I'm being discharged after a number of loyal years to the Navy? Because I've stepped on a few toes?" Norrington asked incredulously, wishing he had taken that seat as he felt a bit light-headed at the implications.  
  
"You didn't let me finish," Admiral Kleeson said with a frown and a furrowed brow. "Chiefly, the reason you're being dismissed is your actions of late, not anything you've done in your past. First, you let Sparrow go. That can be looked over-no one's been able to catch him since-but still, many people in high positions see that as a mark against you. Secondly, commandeering a ship of the Royal Navy in some kind of ill-conceived rescue attempt, and act for which a lesser man would have been hanged. This was also looked over, in the belief you were coerced by Mr. Turner and the governor's daughter. No, the final mark on your career, the final reason you're being stripped of your rank is this gallivanting off to this so- called island of savages. I've even heard rumors that you've become the king of these people?"  
  
"Chief," Norrington muttered under his breath. "Not king."  
  
"I don't really care if that's true or not, but you do know that it is our policy as a nation to try and civilise such peoples and yet, you've refused to tell anyone else where this so-called island is. Why is that, Norrington? You do realize that if you would only share this information with us there would be a chance-albeit a small one-to save what's left of your career?"  
  
"Yes. I do," Norrington said firmly. "And I won't." That was it. He had made his decision and he would have to live with the consequences.  
  
Admiral Kleeson looked him up and down slowly as if to judge his seriousness, "No, I don't believe you would." He looked down to his desk, shuffling some official-looking papers about that Norrington couldn't read, but could guess the contents. "You are hereby discharged from the employ of the British Royal Navy. All titles and privileges are revoked henceforth. You will be given a year's pay as severance. I strongly suggest you use this generous gift to find yourself a new employ. Good day to you, Mr. Norrington," the Admiral said, not looking up at him, his words a clear dismissal. Norrington turned and strode out of the office before he did something rash.

WWW

'£50. A 'generous' gift indeed.' Norrington thought to himself dryly as he strode out of the military barracks that had been his home away from home for nearly half his life. He made it out of the barracks and down a mostly abandoned nearby alleyway before his legs gave out from under him and he leaned against the wall of one of the buildings for support. "Dear God, what am I going to do now," he whispered to himself, his head spinning at the implications of it all. The military had been his entire life. It was all he had ever known.  
  
He looked down to the embroidered jacket he wore-a trembling hand reaching up to touch his tricone hat-and felt two emotions begin to swirl through him; intense regret, and intense anger. How dare they do this to him? How long had he served their every whim and way without hesitation or question? And they had just dumped him like yesterday's rubbish. He couldn't believe it. He yanked the hat and the bloody itchy wig off of his head and threw it down to the ground with a scream of pure frustration and rage. "I don't bloody believe this!" he yelled, no longer caring for propriety. Nothing mattered anymore. He was without title, without honor, without purpose. His life had been stolen from him without a second thought. It didn't matter that he had knew it might have happened; nothing could have prepared him for the wretched reality that his life-his now useless life-was. Nothing. He picked up his hat and dusted it off before slamming it back down on his head. He was still a gentleman at least if not a military man any longer. But he left the wig sitting in a puddle of muddied rainwater without a second thought as he strode out of the alleyway and in the direction of the nearest pub. He needed a stiff drink.

WWW

Elizabeth sat on the small chair in front of her vanity mirror, staring into it and not liking what she saw. Although no one would yet be able to tell she was pregnant from her appearance, she half expected to see news of her...delicate condition branded upon her forehead for everyone to see. She sat, leaning towards the mirror, one hand reaching out to touch the cool glass. She couldn't believe it. She was pregnant and unmarried. What would her father think? How could her family survive the scandal? This was all Jack's fault. He caused this. He...did this to her. He had effectively ruined her life on that island. And what's more, he probably didn't even care. The bastard would probably turn the blame around on her and say that she shouldn't have let herself get pregnant. That it was her own fault for being so weak as to let herself be taken. She'd be damned if she started thinking that way. This was all his fault and he would be made to pay one way or another. A small voice inside her head tried to rationalise that Jack had been possessed at the time and therefore wasn't at fault, but Elizabeth ignored it.  
  
"He had fought against bloody Lorelac before I got there; he just wasn't trying hard enough. He was just looking for an excuse with me ever since that night on the rum island," Elizabeth reassured herself, once more confident in her position. Some part of her knew she was being irrational, but the fear of losing Will over this inspired irrationality. If she did lose Will over her pregnancy by another man, God forbid, then Jack Sparrow would pay. One way or another.  
  
"Elizabeth? Are you alright? You've been in there for quite a long time. Our guests are asking about your health. Are you unwell?" her father's kind voice called out from behind her door.  
  
Elizabeth cast one last long look at herself in the mirror and sighed. What would her father think of her if she told him the truth? That she was decidedly unwell? She shuddered at the thought. If it was up to her, she wouldn't tell anyone. If it had been up to her, she wouldn't have been pregnant in the first place, but she couldn't think about that fact right now or she might find herself tempted to break something and that would be somewhat imprudent with her father on the other side of the door. "I'm fine," she called back. "Tell Mr. and Mrs. Shamelhorn I shall rejoin them directly."  
  
"If you're sure you're alright," Governor Swan said softly before turning to go back to their guests.  
  
Elizabeth waited until she could no longer hear his soft footsteps on the carpet before sighing in relief, frowning at herself as she noticed her face and cheeks were somewhat flushed. She really didn't want to rejoin the boorish people downstairs, but she knew her father was counting on her, and not showing up after reassuring him that she was fine would look suspicious. With a sigh she rose to her feet and straightened her dress, trying for all the world to make sure she didn't look like the pregnant young woman she now was.

WWW

Lorelac surveyed the coastal city of Port Royal with disdain. He hadn't actually ever been there before and was more than a little disappointed by what it had to offer. Perhaps his expectations had been too high for a mere mortal city. He was traveling openly though the city without escort, but he had done a few things to mask his appearance for those who would attempt to capture him. He wasn't really worried about being caught or hung-he couldn't be killed by these pathetic mortal means-but dealing with them would be an annoyance he didn't have the patience for right now.  
  
He wandered along the docks, briefly stopping here and there to look over the vendor's wares. He was greatly annoyed to find himself unconsciously looking for some kohl and new beads for his hair. He was not Jack Sparrow. He was Lorelac, demon god of mischief and plague. This had to stop. By all rights, there should be no trace of the man left inside this body, and yet he could swear he was beginning to hear Sparrow's thoughts and whispers now. He didn't like it.  
  
"May I help you sir?" one of the vendors asked politely, looking him straight in the face, but not recognizing him for the notorious pirate he was. Pity. Well, he supposed being clean-shaven with his hair tied back might have worked better than he had anticipated to mask his appearance, but it was rather annoying going unrecognized after a month of living in infamy.  
  
"No, I want nothing. Kindly leave me be," he said softly, putting more than a little menace in his voice. He had more important things to do today than be hassled by idiotic shopkeepers.  
  
"Sure you do. You just haven't found what it is yet. How about some fresh fruit from the orchard here in town? Or some handmade jewellery? Perhaps you have a girl back home who'd like it if you don't. Only three pounds a piece," the shopkeeper insisted.  
  
"Listen up and listen well, laddie. Unless you'd like your throat slit and your wares covered in you own blood, it'd be in your best interest to let me pass without incident, savvy?"  
  
"Why I never. I'll have the royal guards take you into custody before you can—" the shopkeeper was cut off, literally, as Lorelac slit the man's throat and rolled him under the table after looking about for witnesses. Fortunately-for them-there had been none. He made his way though the town, smirking to himself as he heard the distant screams behind him as the body was located. "I did warn him," he said to himself somewhat cheerfully, whistling as he walked. It was time to find his...friends.

WWW

"I think you've had enough, Commodore," the bartender said gently, calling the man before him by his rank still even though Norrington had told him not to.  
  
"I bloody have not. I'm not even drunk yet. And don't think I don't know what you're doing. Just because I don't drink often doesn't mean that I don't notice when my drinks are being watered down. Now kindly refill my glass and stifle yourself from further comments about my state of sobriety."  
  
The bartender sighed softly, but knew there he was caught. He was just about to refill the former Commodore's glass when he heard the front door of the inn open and looked up to see the new customer. The instant he set his eyes on the newcomer's dark skin, hair and eyes, he knew there was something familiar about that man, but he couldn't place him.  
  
"Well?" Norrington said somewhat irritably, gesturing to his empty glass, not looking up to see the man who had just entered. If he had, he might have noticed the smirk on his face as he came to sit down next to him at the bar.  
  
"Commodore Norrington. What a delightful sur—"  
  
"It's just Norrington now. I no longer go by Commodore," Norrington interrupted, watching as the bartender reluctantly filled up his glass before turning to the newcomer. He was then supremely glad he had not been taking a drink just then, for he surely would have spit it out all over Lorelac's face. "You. What are you doing here, you bloody bastard?" he asked, his eyes narrowed and his voice cold.  
  
"Tut. Is that any way to greet an old friend? Especially one you haven't seen in...goodness, a whole month. My how time flies when you're having fun," Lorelac said with a smirk.  
  
"You're not my friend. And I'd see you hang if I weren't killing Sparrow in the process. A man I do consider my friend. You're nothing to me. Only a problem to be solved. And we will find a way to get rid of you. I bloody promise you that."  
  
The dagger was through Norrington's left hand-pinning it to the bar-before he had time to react. He cried out, bolts of white-hot pain tearing up his arm.  
  
"How's that for a problem?" Lorelac seethed, pulling the dagger out of Norrington's now bloodied hand with a jerk. He had been tempted to twist it while pulling it out, in effect damaging the military man's hand beyond recovery, but such a thing would have been petty revenge. Beneath him. This was good enough. "Does it hurt? And you better put that bloody thing down before I tear this place to pieces. And I can do it too, believe me," Lorelac directed first to Norrington who was clutching his bleeding hand to his chest and secondly to the bartender who had been reaching for a weapon beneath the bar.  
  
"What the bloody hell do you think? Of course it hurts you bloody bastard," Norrington gasped out, somehow remaining defiant when his hand was screaming at him. He took the cloth the shaken bartender handed him and wrapped it tightly around his hand, wincing both at the pain, and the blood stains on the front of his uniform jacket. They would never come out. But then he remembered that he had no real need for it any longer since he had been kicked out of the military, so he supposed it didn't really matter.  
  
Lorelac tutted again before speaking, "Now, you're going to take me to the others or I'm going to have to put this blade through your other hand, and you definitely don't want that, savvy?"  
  
"Savvy," Norrington grit out between clenched teeth, rising to stand beside his chair. He wobbled a bit, black spots dancing at the corners of his vision, but he willed himself not to pass out. There would be plenty of time for that later if he was still conscious.

WWW

Captain Jack Sparrow was in hell. A hell within his own mind that made it all the worse. The things he'd seen. The things he-no, Lorelac, no him, Lorelac, him, Lorelac-had done would haunt him for the rest of time. Even if he was somehow able to reclaim his life from the demon who'd stolen it, there was no coming back from this. He'd never be the same and he knew it. He couldn't be the same after what he'd seen.  
  
He had watched Lorelac kill dozens and dozens of people, rape women and burn entire towns to the ground. He had seen him destroy other ships without mercy or hesitation. Things like that couldn't ever be forgotten. He would be hearing the screams of his victims in his every waking and sleeping moment for the rest of his life. Thoughts like that made him wish for death.  
  
He had tried to warn Norrington-he had railed and banged against the bars of his prison-but it hadn't been enough. He could feel Lorelac's hold on him weakening, ever so slightly however. But it hadn't been enough to save the Commodore. As he watched Norrington walk towards Will's shop, clutching his wounded and wrapped hand tightly, he added another mark to the list of things he might have been able to prevent and would never be able to atone for. He also knew deep inside that that list would grow immeasurably longer by the time he was leaving Port Royal. If he left Port Royal, that is.  
  
He watched as Lorelac entered the blacksmith shop with a deep sense of longing and nostalgia. He let out a cheer within his mind as Lorelac stumbled, picking up on some of Jack's thoughts. He only hoped Norrington had noticed. From the way he had been watching Lorelac like a hawk ever since he had driven the blade through his hand-his blue eyes cold and hateful-it was quite obvious that he had.

WWW

"James what are you doing..." Will trailed off as he saw Lorelac, the hammer that had been in his hand poised to strike at the anvil clattering to the ground. "Jack?" Will asked slowly, not believing his eyes. He then saw the cold smirk on Jack's face and the saturated bloody cloth wrapped around Norrington's left hand. "No. Not Jack. What are you doing here, you bloody bastard?"  
  
"My dear William, you seem unhappy to see me. I can't imagine why," Lorelac said with a smirk. "How do you like the new me?" he asked, pulling off Jack's battered tricorn hat and twirling around for Will to see the changes he had made.  
  
"Jack's going to be mighty angry with you for ruining his hair and taking out all of the beads," Will said evenly. All but one. Why did he leave that one in? He asked himself, his eyes drawn to the crystal which caught his eye as it refracted a rainbow of color in Jack's raven hair. "And I don't like the clothes. They make you look like a ponce," Will said with a sneer, gesturing to Lorelac's clearly refined clothes. They were nothing Jack would have worn, unless he was trying to impersonate a stuck-up nobleman, that is.  
  
"Watch yourself, Turner. I've already taken Norrington's hand for his insolence, and I have no qualms about taking something of yours either. Perhaps your darling Elizabeth? I so wanted to see her again. We have so much to talk about, she and I? I'll assume she hasn't told you? A pity. Well, she will sooner or later, I'm sure. Even she couldn't bottle it up forever."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Will asked coldly.  
  
"Oh nevermind. I'm sure if she wanted you to know, she would have told you by now. Maybe you should be reevaluating your decision to marry this woman if you're relationship together is already based on lies and mistrust?" Lorelac commented wickedly.  
  
"Don't-don't listen to him, Will," Norrington practically pleaded with him, wincing in pain. Unlike Will, Norrington thought he had figured out what Lorelac was talking about-what Elizabeth was hiding from them about her time on the island with Jack. It was nothing she had said, he had been trained to peer beneath the surface of what was spoken out loud and what was whispered within. He hoped to God that he was wrong, but he doubted it.  
  
Lorelac let Will grab him by the shirt collar for a brief moment with a smirk on his face before sending him back hard against a desk with a force hard enough to bruise.  
  
"Tell me!" Will ordered, pulling himself away from the desk with a wince that he managed to cover to his credit.  
  
"Alright, alright. You don't have to get bloody fussy about it," Lorelac said with a smirk, straightening his clothing. "While your darling Elizabeth and I were on the island together, I raped her and she loved every moment of it."  
  
"You bastard," Norrington whispered before turning to see Will's reaction. The other man had gone very, very still, and it worried him. He was just about to ask if he was alright, when Will spoke.  
  
"I don't believe you," he said firmly.  
  
"Oh, I think you do, William. And what's more, you don't seem all that surprised to me. You never really believed she loved you, did you? She's too noble for the likes of a poor, humble, futureless blacksmith like you."  
  
Will's fist was against Lorlac's jaw before anyone had time to react. And what's more, with a job that required sufficient upper body strength, Will packed a mean punch. The pain that he felt afterwards was intense, but it had been worth it.  
  
"Bloody hell," Lorelac said, spitting out a tooth and wiping the blood off of his chin. "Those don't bloody grow back. I guess I'll just have to get another gold one. As if I've not got enough already," he muttered to himself before turning to Will, taking great pleasure in seeing him in pain. "If you ever touch me again, I'll snap your neck like a twig, you pathetic little worm," Lorelac seethed.  
  
"He won't. You have my word," Norrington interceded upon Will's behalf. And Will wouldn't. He was a man of his word. But he hadn't promised that he wouldn't lay both hands upon the devil that had taken over Jack's body if he thought he could get him back. Norrington saw Will beginning to tremble in clear pain and spoke up to Lorelac, "Stop it, you're killing him!"  
  
"So? Why should I care?" Lorelac asked with a frown, looking at Norrington.  
  
"What would be the point in killing him? Especially now that you've yet to see his reaction when he sees Elizabeth next." Saying such words in front of a man who was obviously in pain in more ways than the obvious killed something inside of him, but it couldn't be helped. Will's life was at stake.  
  
"Hmm...you may have a point. Fine. I'll let him live for now only to see his life crumble before him. It should be quite entertaining, I should think," he said with a bloodied smirk, releasing Will. Norrington sighed in relief as he saw Will relax slightly, but shivered as Lorelac's gaze was once more tuned to him. "Once I've gotten to see the reaction, there's nothing stopping me from killing you all. You would do well to remember that, Commodore."  
  
Norrington only nodded, kneeling down to help Will, freezing when he heard the front door of the shop open and Lorelac's cheer-filled words.  
  
"Ah, Elizabeth! The woman we've all been waiting for! Do come in, we've got much to talk about."  
  
TBC  
  
A/N: Ok, I'm evil, you know it, I know it, everyone knows it. First I make you wait so long for this chapter, and then on top of that, I end it with a cliffhanger. And I don't feel at all remorseful. Well, maybe a little....ok, a lot. I'm so sorry!! sobs I'll make it up to you all, I promise!!  
  
Reviewer's Thanks Section  
  
Miss Becky: Thanks so much for the birthday well-wishes! :-D I hope this chapter addressed some of your concerns and comments. And look! I even included a section with Jack! He's still there! crowd cheers  
  
Holliday1081: Yup, Lizzie' preggers. But no one knows yet but her and the doc. That'll change soon. I can't really imagine Norry without the uniform and all that goes with it either, but I guess I'm going to have to now, huh?  
  
ravenmuse: Thank you so much for your comments! Don't worry, there will be much more on Jack's past. He's shown me a little of what's happened to him, and let me tell you, it's not pretty. As for the rest of them, well, we'll just have to find out how they deal together.  
  
Miss Anya: I'm so glad you're liking my Jack bits! There wasn't much of him in this chapter, but more is coming soon, I promise!  
  
jigglykat: I can't wait to see Will's reaction either! But one thing at a time...  
  
Sherlock's Sparrow: Glad you're loving the story, the next update will come much sooner than this one, I promise!  
  
Depp n Em Fanatic: You were waiting for this chapter for ages too. Sorry about that.  
  
Jackroks: Thanks for your comments! I'm looking forward from more with Lizzie too.  
  
Blue Trinity: I'm not entirely sure what Liz is going to do just yet, one problem at a time. Norry as a pirate...hmm... Don't know about that one either. And no worries, Jack's opportune moment is coming soon!  
  
BURN THE R.U.M: Aww, I'm glad you keep reading despite the angstyness. I wish I could say that it'll get brighter soon, but that would be a terrible and bald-faced lie.  
  
Mistress of Destruction: Lorelac is definitely very arrogant. He thinks no one can stop him. Well, we'll just have to show him wrong, won't we?  
  
Mara: Definitely messy. Norry as a pirate could definitely be fun.:-D  
  
tylerheritage: Ok, first of all, I want to say thank you for all your reviews!! Yeah, I hate Lorelac too. Well actually it's more of a love/hate kinda thing. But then I'm the one who created him, hides from angry mob so maybe I should. And Norry...I love that man. That's all there is to it. 


	4. Chapter 3: Catching Tigers and Causing T...

A Gilded Cage: Sequel to Broken Wings, Part II of the Fallen Sparrows Trilogy

A Pirates of the Caribbean story by Merrie

Disclaimer: They're still not mine. Although if they were…they'd probably all hate me for what I do to them, so I suppose it's just as well.

Summary: Captain Jack has been possessed by a demon god by the name of Lorelac who's used Jack to become the most infamous, hated, and wanted pirate in the ocean. Can Jack reclaim his life back? Will Elizabeth and Will be able to help while encountering problems of their own? And what about Chief Norrington? Sequel to Broken Wings.

Characters: Captain Jack Sparrow, Lorelac, Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann, Chief Norrington, many other random extras.

Author's Note: Sorry this wasn't up sooner. I was on holiday and without my computer.

Rating: R for language, content, and violence. Lorelac gets a little nasty.

Chapter 3: Catching Tigers and Causing Trouble

Elizabeth froze, not believing her eyes. There, standing before her looking larger than life was the object of her current hatred. "You," she hissed. "What are you doing here? You're not wanted here. Get out."

"Aww, I'm hurt, Elizabeth. Is that anyway to treat an old lover?" Lorelac asked with a wicked smirk.

Elizabeth betrayed herself by immediately looking at Will, her eyes wide.

"Is what he says true?" Will asked, not believing it, but finding it hard to argue with the clearly guilty look on her face.

"Will it's—" Elizabeth started.

"Is what he said true?!" Will cut her off.

"Yes," Elizabeth said, her voice almost too low for the other occupants of the room to hear. Filled with guilt, she found she couldn't meet Will's piercing gaze, so she looked away. Her eyes landed on Jack's face and the guilt was replaced by anger. "Yes, it's true. That filthy bastard standing next to you raped me like an animal in the dirt. He laughed as I begged him to stop. He laughed, Will. He could have cared less about me. The only thing he cared about was defiling what we had together. I was nothing more than a means to an end with him."

"You give yourself far too little credit, Elizabeth," Lorelac said snidely. "You're a beautiful woman. So passionate, so willing."

"I seriously doubt any woman let alone one as respected as Miss Swann would be willing under that circumstance," Norrington said resolutely.

"You're a food if you believe that. How much do you really know about your dear Miss Swann? Did you know that she would have given anything to get away from here? Anything at all? She's a whore. That's all she ever has been. It doesn't matter if it's her body, her wealth, her very soul that she's giving up, that doesn't change what she is." Lorelac smiled coldly as blood trailed down his chin from his mouth from the knocked out tooth.

It was Norrington's turn to take a swing at Lorelac, and after the demon's words about Elizabeth, there was no hesitation. He slugged him with the full force of his arm, but felt no stirrings of victory inside of him as Lorelac tripped backwards over the hammer Will had dropped and toppled to the ground.

"You'll pay for that," Lorleac hissed from the ground. With a fluid motion he rose to his feet and held up a hand. Will and Elizabeth's faces were drawn in mirroring looks of horror as Norrington's hands went to his throat and he held them there as if he couldn't breathe. Which seemed to be the case, for he didn't make a sound.

"Stop it! Let him go!" Elizabeth and Will both yelled simultaneously. Lorelac didn't seem to pay them any mind, his attentions focussed on Norrington. "No one would miss you except the people in this room. You realize that? And I wouldn't put much stock in their opinions. They considered Sparrow their friend." He let out a short laugh at that but didn't let go of Norrington's throat with his crushing, invisible grip. Norrington's face was turning blue and his eyes were beginning to flutter shut.

_So this is how I die. _Norrington thought to himself, the world beginning to fade around him as his body was denied the life-giving air that was needed to sustain it. As soon as that thought went through his mind, a wave of fury flooded over him. _No! I refuse to end it like this! _He was James Christopher Michael Norrington III and he refused to be killed in such a…undignified manner. If it had Sparrow who was doing this, he might have felt differently-Sparrow was a worthy adversary-but this demon in front of him was nothing. A specter with a bag of cheap parlour tricks. That was all. His struggles continued in intensity.

Lorelac saw Norrington's weak struggles and shook his head. "I do not understand you mortals. Your lives are so fragile, so meaningless, but when they're threatened, you fight. You fight as if your very fighting could make a difference. It never does. Don't try it. You make one move towards him or me and I'll snap his neck like a trick," Lorelac addressed the tensing Elizabeth and Will who weren't about to stand idly by and let Norrington die. "And doing that would upset me. I like to see people suffer, you see? I have never enjoyed quick deaths."

Will paused at Lorelac's words but then took another look at Norrington. The man's arms had dropped limply to his sides, and Will was sure that if Lorelac hadn't been holding him upright with whatever force he was using to strangle him with, the former military man would have slumped to the ground. If he did as Lorelac said, Norrington would be dead soon. If he didn't, Norrington would be dead sooner. Not good odds, but Will had to try.

A second after Will took a step in Lorelac's direction; Norrington slumped bonelessly to the ground and didn't move. "No!" he yelled.

"Will! He's alright! I think he just passed out!" Elizabeth reassured him, running to Norrington's side.

Will took a second look at Norrington's crumpled body and he was relieved to see that the man was still breathing. Then he frowned and turned to Lorelac. "Why did you let him go? Are you going to kill one of us now?" he asked coldly. Lorelac didn't answer, just stared down at his right hand as if he had never seen it before. "Answer me, you bastard!"

Lorelac's head snapped up to look in Will's direction at the sound of his voice, and Will gasped. It wasn't Lorelac's cold blue eyes that stared back at him, they were Jack's. "Jack?" he whispered, not believing what he was seeing and taking a step towards him. Jack immediately took a step back from him, his eyes going wide. "Jack, we're not going to hurt you," he assured him, holding up a hand in an attempt to calm the man before him. His eyes fixed on Jack, he didn't notice the cold, hate-filled glare Elizabeth sent in Jack's direction over Norrington's still unconscious body.

"Jack? Not-not…Lorelac?" Jack asked in a small voice, looking at Will for answers.

Will frowned at the question. "No, not Lorelac. You're you, Jack. Jack Sparrow. Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl."

"The Pearl," Jack responded, a slightly wistful look on his face. "I remember the Pearl." The wistful look turned to horror. "Oh God. The Pearl. All those people. I've killed so many people."

"No. It wasn't you. It was Lorelac," Will said forcefully, trying not to show a look of horror on his own face. He had heard stories of what Lorelac had been doing, how the Black Pearl had become the most feared and cursed pirate ship in the ocean, and those stories were enough to give him nightmares. Watching as your own hands did those things-helpless to stop them-Will couldn't imagine that. Nor did he want to.

"No. It was me. I could have stopped him. I should have stopped him. Oh God, all those people."

"Then why didn't you? Why didn't you stop him?" Elizabeth asked coldly. "Maybe you liked doing all the things he was doing. Maybe you liked the power you had. If you had really wanted to stop him, then why the bloody hell didn't you?" The part of her that wasn't vengeance was screaming at her to take pity on the man before her-the friend before her. It was trying to tell her that none of what had happened was Jack's fault but she pushed it aside, the sight of him smiling over her as she was brutally raped filling her sight and hardening her heart. "Kill him."

"What? No! How can you say that? He's our friend! Your friend!" Will said incredulously, not believing the hatred he was hearing in Elizabeth's sweet voice.

"He's no one's friend. He raped me, Will. Or have you forgotten that so quickly," she asked coldly.

"It wasn't-it wasn't him," Will said slowly as if he was trying to convince himself of his own words. "It was Lorelac."

"He _is _Lorelac, Will! They share the same bloody body! Kill him and you get them both!"

"You're not thinking clearly. I can't believe you're saying this! Jack's our friend! He didn't ask for this!" Will tried to reason with her, his world crumbling down around him with every venom-filled word out of his beautiful fiancé's mouth.

"Oh and you think I did, is that it? You think I asked to be raped? You think I asked for him to laugh as he stole my virginity away? Treating me like nothing as he pounded me into the sand? Do you?!" she screeched.

"No," Will said softly, looking down at his feet.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth," Jack spoke up so quietly that they almost didn't hear him. "You're right, you know. I deserve to die for what I've done. And for what I will do."

"Lorelac's the one who deserves to die, Jack. Not you. Never you. You're not a killer, he is." Will couldn't believe this. They had been searching for Jack for so long, and here he was finally, right before them. And all they were talking about was killing him.

"Yes I am," Jack murmured. "I was a killer long before Lorelac, Will. Don't forget that. A man doesn't become a pirate captain by being unafraid to do what is necessary to get on top.

Will didn't know what to say to that. He had never thought of Jack's life before he had met him, never considered just what Jack's life had been before had met him. Or since. Kiquan's words on the island came back to him then. He had said Jack had been ruthless. Even after Barbossa. But Will hadn't believed it then. Looking into Jack's eyes and seeing the seriousness of his expression now, he almost believed.

"If you're going to bloody do something, you'd better do it now," Jack gasped. "I can't-I can't hold him back for much longer." He groaned and shut his eyes tightly but not before Will saw a flash of Lorelac's cold blue in them again. He acted without thinking, bashing Jack over the head soundly with the hilt of a nearby sword. Jack dropped to the ground and didn't move.

###

Norrington came to slowly, his throat a lancing ring of pain. When he felt that, his eyes snapped open and he looked around the room frantically, not understanding why he was still alive. The last thing he could remember was his life slipping away from him while he was helpless to do anything about it. He had tried to fight, but in the end it hadn't been enough. Or had it? "What-what happened?" he rasped, his throat swollen so that even though he was apparently no longer being strangled, breathing was still difficult.

Elizabeth laid a gentle hand on his shoulder before helping him to his feet when he refused to continue lying down. She didn't answer his question however.

Norrington was about to ask again when he saw Lorelac's body seemingly unconscious on the ground. Had Will managed to stop him? "How?" he couldn't manage much more than that with his bruised and swollen throat so he hoped Will knew what he meant.

"I didn't stop him. Jack did. Jack took over. He was here talking to us," Will whispered from his position of standing guard over Jack's body. "I had to knock him out because Lorelac was taking over again."

"What are you going to do?" Norrington whispered, holding his uninjured hand to his throat. That was something positive about being nearly strangled, the pain in his throat now overcame the pain of his skewered hand.

"I don't know," Will said, his shoulders slumping. "There has to be a way to stop him."

"There isn't. Except killing him," Elizabeth said evenly. "It's the only way, Will."

"Don't talk to me about that. I don't want to hear it. I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am for what happened to you, how much I would like to kill the man who did it slowly, but it wasn't Jack. I won't make Jack pay for things he had no control over. He didn't…rape you…" God that was hard to say and even harder to accept, "Lorelac did. And I will make him pay."

"Lorelac's a spirit, demon, specter, whatever you want to call him. He has no flesh. It was Jack who raped me, not him. Lorelac might have been in control of him, but that doesn't matter." A part of her knew she was being irrational in pinning the blame all on Jack's shoulders, but there was no one else. She was tired of feeling helpless. Tired of feeling afraid around her own husband and friends because she thought they might hurt her too. She was just tired. _Well, when you're pregnant, that's to be expected._ The voice of her rage hissed at her. _So Will knows you were raped. Are you going to tell him the rest? _No. She wasn't. She couldn't. Not now, maybe not ever. But she didn't know what to do. It wouldn't be too much longer before she could no longer hide the signs of her pregnancy from him. What would she do then? She had no answer for that one.

"We're not going to kill him," Will insisted firmly. "And who knows that by killing Jack you'll kill Lorelac too? What if all that's left when you've done it is the corpse of our friend and an angry god out for revenge? What then?"

"I-I don't know," Elizabeth said softly. "I hadn't thought about it."

"Of course you hadn't. All you can think about is getting vengeance for what Lorelac did to you. I want that too, Elizabeth, more than you can imagine, but not at the cost of Jack's life when we may be able to help him."

"All right. So what do we do now?" Elizabeth asked with an air of resignation.

###

Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean of the coast of Spain, 1673

It had been only a week since Jack had been at sea on his cousin's boat, and already he hated it. The seasickness that had plagued him for the first two days seemed to have finally passed, a small blessing that he was unbelievably thankful for. He looked down at his hands as he lay on his hammock in the bowels of the ship and tried to get some sleep. They were bloodied and raw, covered with calluses. Captain Sperling-he no longer called him by the informal Sebastian any longer even within his own head-had wasted no time in showing him where his place was on the ship-under the heel of everyone aboard. He missed his mother and sister terribly, but he couldn't go back to them now. For better or worse, this is where he would have to stay.

"Jack? You still awake?" Emmett's voice whispered next to him.

"Yes. As usual," he whispered back with a small smile. In even such a short amount of time as he'd been there, Emmett had become a close friend. While the rest of the crew seemed to look down on him both for being the cabin boy and for being Captain Sperling's cousin, Emmett had treated him as an equal. A part of Jack complained about being on equal terms with a peasant who was also younger than him, but he was learning to ignore it.

"Can't sleep?" Emmett asked softly.

Jack sighed. "No. As usual." He had been having trouble sleeping in the uncomfortable and unfamiliar hammock, but Emmett was the only one who cared enough to ask about it.

"You just have to get used to the swaying of the boat. Soon it'll put you to sleep faster than you can blink, and you'll find yourself having trouble not rolling with the swells of the waves on land as well."

Jack had seen men who had been at sea long stumble about on the dry land like drunkards and couldn't imagine getting used to being on the water enough for that to happen to him.

Emmett seemed to know Jack's thoughts so he went on, rubbing a hand through his dirty blonde hair. "How's the sunburn?"

Jack winced just thinking about it. A day in the sun had turned his fair English skin red and blistering. Emmett had warned him to keep covered up, but he hadn't listened. "It sill hurts, but it's beginning to fade." That was true. And as the reddened skin fell away, he could see the hints of darker skin underneath. "Thank you for asking," he said softly.

"I remember what it's like being the new cabin boy. I remember how the crew ignored me. I promised myself then that when someone took my place I wouldn't treat him the same way they had treated me. But don't worry, Jack. The crew'll come around eventually, you'll see. You're smart, and you do your work without complaint. Well, not in public at least." He paused, seeming to consider his next words. "It's almost as if you're trying to prove something."

"I am," Jack said after a moment's hesitation. "My mother sent me here to…make a man out of me, I guess. She thought it would be good for me." Jack shrugged, the thought of his mother making him a little homesick.

"It is. You've only been onboard a week and I can already see the changes," Emmett said with a nod that Jack couldn't see in the dark.

"What changes?" Jack asked curiously.

"Well, when you first got here you hardly said two words to anyone; including me. Now I can't get you to shut up," Emmett said with a laugh.

"Very funny, Em," Jack said dryly.

"Well you asked," Emmett said with a laugh. "But you have changed. You're not the same person you were when you first got here, I know that. I don't really know quite how you've changed, but you have."

"That makes everything clear now, thank you," Jack said with a short laugh.

"Hey, don't look at me. You're the one with the fancy education. If you can understand we poor peasants' mutterings, that's not our fault," Emmett joked with a laugh.

Jack didn't share the laugh. That was another sore point between him and the crew. He was one of the very few who knew how to read and write, let alone anything else. As it was, Jack read, write, play the piano-badly-and speak a handful of languages. While he seemed to have taken to sailing fairly easily, he remained a scholar at heart and through his learnings. 

"I'm sorry. It was a poor joke," Emmett said when Jack grew silent.

Jack shrugged. "Don't be. I guess I'm just not in the mood to laugh right now. I think I'll try and get some sleep. Goodnight, Emmett."

"Goodnight Jack. I'll see you in the—wait, what was that?" Emmett asked, sitting up straight in his hammock.

"What was what?" Jack asked.

"Shh, be quiet. I thought I heard something." The two young men grew quiet until they were startled by the ship's bell ringing loudly and the men around them waking and dropping to their feet.

"What's happening?" Jack shouted frantically, not knowing what to do.

"Do you know how to fight?" Emmett asked, rising to his feet and pulling on his boots quickly.

"I was a master fencer on my team, why?" Jack asked with a worried frown, moving to pull on his own boots but not knowing why. 

"Good. Because that bell can only mean one thing."

"What?" Jack was almost afraid to ask.

"Pirates."

###

Lorelac came to slowly, not understanding what was happening to him. He seemed to be on some kind of table, and he couldn't move his hands or feet. "What—" he started, beginning to struggle a bit. "What's the bloody hell is going on?! Let me go on by all the gods I'll tear you apart!"

"Maybe this wasn't the wisest of ideas," Norrington said raspily. "He doesn't need to be tied up to hurt us."

"Jack will stop him. We have to believe that," Will said firmly, refusing to allow the worry that was coursing through his veins as well as he watched Lorelac or Jack stir show on his face.

"You can't honestly believe that," Elizabeth said with a frown. "And Lorelac's too strong. And who's to say that Jack even will fight, let alone want to?" she asked hardly, but her anger was beginning to wane.

"He stopped Lorelac from killing me," Norrington reminded them softly. He had no delusions with how close he had come to death then. He could still feel the crushing invisible fist of iron encircled around his neck, stealing his life and breath away. He imagined that he always would.

"And yet he didn't stop him from hurting your hand," Elizabeth said, gesturing down to Norrington's wounded left hand which she had just finished wrapping.

"I don't hold it against him," Norrington rasped with a shrug. "I wasn't using that hand anyway," he joked softly, trying to make light of the situation. He wasn't one to make jokes, but the tension was so thick in the room right now that he thought if they didn't start laughing they might start crying or worse yet, start arguing again. He could feel the tension especially between Elizabeth and Will over their stances on what to do with Jack and Lorelac.

If he was being honest with himself he sided with Elizabeth. Unlike her or Will, he had heard firsthand just what Lorelac had been doing the past month-the people he had killed, the towns and villages he had left in flames. He needed to be stopped. And if he were forced, he would sacrifice Jack-someone didn't really know, but had begun to consider a friend-for the sake of all of Lorelac's future victims.

Neither Will nor Elizabeth shared his humour. They were both concentrating on Jack/Lorelac's scowling form.

"Your precious Sparrow is dead. You'll join him soon." He was about to break Elizabeth's lovely neck when he found he couldn't. The power to do so was there, but it was beyond his reach. "No, it's not possible. You're dead. I killed you!" he screamed, his voice filled with fury.

"You tried to kill me, you miserable bastard. But you forgot the same thing that everyone else does. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, and you're less than nothing to me."

Will couldn't stop a small cheer from escaping his lip at the sound of Jack's words again. He was winning!

"If you think you can destroy me that easily, you're sorely mistaken, Sparrow," Lorelac said coldly.

Norrington couldn't believe what he was seeing. He had seen some-granted-unusual things in his former career, but nothing quite like this. While neither Jack nor Lorelac were moving physically, Norrington could see the battle they were waging reflected in their eyes in shifting dark brown and blue. It was almost nauseating to watch. He could only hope that Jack had the strength to keep fighting. From the looks of it, he had that at least. But could he win?

Elizabeth, for her part, didn't know what to think. She wanted Lorelac gone, that much was for sure, but what then? Would he come back to inhabit someone else? Where would he go? Where had he come from in the first place? Why Jack? Why not someone else on his crew? Why did it have to be him?

"The cryst---get the bloody crystal!" Jack yelled, every muscle tense, his voice clearly pained as he shut his eyes tightly and strained at the chains they had bound him with.

For a moment the trio just stood and stared at him, completely dumbfounded at to what the hell he was talking about. Crystal? What bloody crystal? Then Will remembered. The single crystal that he had noticed earlier. The only one Lorelac had left. He knew now why that had been. Because it had a purpose.

"Do it! Now!" Jack shouted upon seeing the realization upon Will's face. His eyes gave him a start, one was his own dark brown color, and the other was Lorelac's ice blue, but Will didn't hesitate. The blue crystal was in his hand before anyone could react, sparkling in the dim light.

"No! It's not fair! You can't—" Lorelac's rage-filled shouts echoed in the room long after Jack cut him off, lying back on the table and breathing heavily.

After a long moment it was Norrington who spoke first. "Is he gone?"

"Oh God, I bloody hope so," Jack groaned. "I think he's trapped in that crystal. You didn't touch it, did you, Will?"

Will shook his head, still holding the chain in his fist tightly, the crystal swinging back and forth under it slowly. "What do we do with it now?"

"Smash it," Elizabeth said without hesitation, moving to take the crystal from Will's hand.

"No!" Jack shouted, his eyes going wide. "We have no idea what would happen if you did that, Elizabeth. He might be freed to do whatever the bloody hell he wants after that. Don't do anything. And for God's sake, don't touch it. He can't possess someone without the crystal being in direct contact with their skin as far as I can figure. And as for him being really gone?" He held up his right hand and Will moved in to pull back the sleeve.

The trio gasped to see the blue and black lines of Lorelac's tattoo receding up Jack's arm as if they were alive. They watched as the lines moved back down from Jack's neck and across his body to his right shoulder where the stopped. Jack frowned and lifted his head up to look at his left arm after trying in vain to sit up.

"Here," Will said, moving to unlock the chains binding Jack's wrists. He didn't unlock the ones at his feet, and he wouldn't until they were certain that Lorelac was really gone.

Jack nodded his thanks and sat up on the table, pulling up his right sleeve all the way to the shoulder. The tattoo remained. "I guess I'm stuck with that one," he said with a sigh. "I suppose it's for the best. It'll be a reminder of all…of all the people I've killed," he whispered. He cleared his throat and looked at them. "It would seem that bastard demon is gone. For now."

TBC

A/N: Ok, once again, I'm sorry this took so long to post! I was on holiday for a week in New Orleans without my computer. Anyway, I hope you liked the chapter, may Lorelac rest in pieces. ;-) Also, I'm looking for a full time beta reader. Due to real life conflicts, my old one can no longer beta, so I'm looking for a new one. Any takers? Email me at dragoness987aol.com or IM me at Fireapple Shark if you're interested. Thanks!

Reviewer Responses

FalconWing: Hi! Thanks for the review! I love writing cliffhangers. It's so much fun!! I'm glad you like the story still, the next chapter should be up in a week! Hopefully less!

Swankles: Thank you, thank you, thank you. And I am. :-)

Miss Anya: This story will never be abandoned. Darkness Rising never will either. I'll finish them all even if it kills me! That is a promise. I looovvvveee Norry. Although I was really mean to him in this chapter! Poor Norry!

Neon Daises: Aww thanks. I hurt Norry again! Ahh! I didn't mean to I swear! Sigh. You're hopeless. I'm not going to kill Jack. Well, probably not anyway. ;-)

BURN THE R.U.M.: Cliffhangers are evil, I agree. But so much fun to write!! And a good ramble is always appreciated. I don't know what lies in store for Will and Lizzy. They haven't let me know yet. It doesn't look good at the moment though… :-(

OpraNoodlemantra: Love the name! LOL! If you're a big enough Johnny fan to know that, you should Johnny's Angels, a message board for Johnny fans. It's a lot of fun. Look us up! Anyway, thanks for the review!! It's always nice to hear from new people! Oh, and Jack's past will be delved into soon. I warn you, it's not going to be pretty.

Emma: I can't explain all of Lorelac's thinking. I think he maybe wanted to see Elizabeth again to see the look on her face when she was confronted by the rape. That's my best guess anyway.

Jackfan2: Unfortunately, I'm not sure Jack will ever recover for the things Lorelac did while in control of him. We'll see. I'm seeing problems for Will and Liz in the future. Things are a little…rocky between them now. Not good. Revenge for Lorelac hasn't come yet, but it will. You can be sure of that. Sorry about the nails.

Mistress of Destruction: Yeah, sorry about the wait! Yes, poor, poor, Norry! I was wretched to him in this chapter as well! As for Liz's baby being a demon or demi-god? We'll just haveta wait and see. :-)

Mara: Again, forgive me for the long wait. I love giving Norry chapters of his own. He rocks. Embrace the Norryluv! Anyway, I hope you were pleased with the demise of Lorelac. I hope you all were. He didn't want to go down without a fight. He still doesn't.

Thanks again for all your continued reviews! You guys are the best!!

-Merrie


	5. Chapter 4: Raging Pirates, Remembrances ...

A Gilded Cage: Sequel to Broken Wings, Part II of the Fallen Sparrows Trilogy

A Pirates of the Caribbean story by Merrie

Disclaimer: They're still not mine. Although if they were…they'd probably all hate me for what I do to them, so I suppose it's just as well.

Summary: Captain Jack has been possessed by a demon god by the name of Lorelac who's used Jack to become the most infamous, hated, and wanted pirate in the ocean. Can Jack reclaim his life back? Will Elizabeth and Will be able to help while encountering problems of their own? And what about Chief Norrington? Sequel to Broken Wings.

Characters: Captain Jack Sparrow, Lorelac, Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann, Chief Norrington, many other random extras.

Author's Note: This chapter was a lot of fun to write. Jack's ever slowly but surely letting me in on his life as Edward Sperling before he was Captain Jack Sparrow. It's not pretty, it's not nice, but it's interesting to write.

Also, there is almost no Elizabeth in this chapter whatsoever. Sorry to the Lizzie fans, but she was keeping her thoughts to herself this chapter. I can't say I blame her really.

Rating: PG-13

Chapter 4: Raging Pirates and Remembrances and Remnants of Possession.

"Are you alright, Jack?" Norrington asked softly, looking down at the pirate who sat down on the floor leaning against the wall. He looked…broken.

"No, I don't think so, but that doesn't matter right now. "What about you? How's your hand?" he asked with a slight wince.

Norrington looked down to his bandaged left hand and sighed. "I don't know. I can still move it at least, so that's something. And for now there doesn't seem to be any infection. Elizabeth made me wash it out quite thoroughly just a few minutes ago."

"That's good," Jack said absently, looking down at his feet.

"Oh come on, man. It wasn't your fault. Don't you dare start in with the guilt again, I won't stand bloody stand for it. You had no control over your actions," Norrington said sternly, crouching down to look at him, trying not to wince as all the talking warred on his bruised throat.

"Tell that to Elizabeth," Jack said softly, still not looking up. Norrington had no answer to that.

"What about your ship? What about the Pearl? Where is it?" Norrington asked, both attempting to change the subject and clearly curious.

"She's docked in a bay nearby. I'm not worried about her. The crew's too bloody frightened of the fearsome Captain Jack Sparrow to try and take her. Not to mention I killed the last crew I had. And I got the one before that killed. It's a wonder anyone sails with me at all anymore. Don't they know I'm cursed?"

"You're not cursed. Not anymore. And don't say things like that as if you did them. You didn't. Lorelac did," Norrington insisted.

"Did he? The lines tend to blur as time passes. I'm no longer sure it wasn't me who did all those things-killed all those people-anymore, James. I'm just not," Jack whispered.

"Jack, you listen to me and you listen well. You are _not_ a killer," Norrington insisted, reaching a hand out to lift Jack's chin so that their eyes met. "You're not," he repeated.

"Are you so sure of that?" Jack asked softly.

###

Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean of the coast of Spain, merchant ship The Intrepid, 1673

"Pirates? What do you mean pirates? _Real_ pirates?" Jack asked somewhat breathlessly, standing up beside his hammock and trying not to get knocked over by the men rushing past him.

"As opposed to fake pirates, Jack?" Emmett asked wryly pulling a pistol out of his sea chest and putting it into his belt.

"Don't mock, Emmett, it's not proper," Jack said absently before continuing on. "I've never seen a real pirate before. What-what do I do?" he asked, his face creased with worry.

"You fight. Don't worry Jack, I've got your back," Emmett promised with a smile. "You'll be just fine. You'll see."

"Fine. Right. We're going up against bloodthirsty pirates who would as soon kill us to look at us. Excuse me for not feeling as optimistic as you seem to be," Jack drawled, reaching into his own trunk to remove his pistol, having already gotten his sword out of the roll he slept with in his hammock. It was an expensive sword that wouldn't fit in his trunk, so he was given no choice but to sleep with it next to him.

"Oh I don't know, Jack. Some pirates aren't all that bad. Most of them just want your money, not your life," Emmett said with a shrug.

"You'll pardon me for not believing that," Jack said with a nod. "Very well, I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Shall we?"

"We shall," Emmett said with a laugh, leading the way up to the deck.

###

"What are you going to do?" Will asked, crouching down beside Norrington in front of Jack. "The entire town is out to kill you. You know that, right?" he asked with a worried frown.

"It's more than just this town, Will. You have no idea the things I've done. The people I've killed. So why don't you just keep your bloody opinions to yourself!" Jack yelled, his face clenched in rage. As soon as he said it, Jack's face slackened and he stared up at Will with slightly widened eyes. "I'm…sorry. I don't know why I yelled at you like that."

Will was almost as shocked as Jack was. Jack had never yelled at him. In fact, he couldn't remember a time that Jack had ever really yelled at anyone in anger before. "It's alright, Jack. We won't send you to the noose again. We'll find a way to get you out of Port Royal. Won't we, James?" Will asked the man beside him.

Norrington rubbed his slightly stubbly chin with his good hand in thought. "It won't be easy, but I think we can manage."

"Why are you helping me? After the things I've done. Norrington, I tried to kill you. Will, I…well you know what I did to Elizabeth," Jack said softly, not meeting either man's eyes.

"It wasn't your fault, Jack. You weren't in charge of your actions. Elizabeth…will come to understand that. You'll see," Will said slowly, casting a glance in Elizabeth's direction. She was sitting on a stool across the room and dutifully not looking at any of them.

"I notice you didn't say she'd forgive me," Jack muttered bitterly. "But that's to be expected. The things I've done can't be forgiven. They shouldn't be. I don't blame her, Will. And neither should you. What I did to her was unspeakable." _The bloody bitch deserved it_. A nasty voice whispered.

"What is it? You look like someone just walked over your grave, Sparrow," Norrington said with a frown, noticing Jack go ridged.

Jack didn't say a word, waiting for the voice to speak again. The voice that _didn't_ sound like Lorelac, which was more disturbing than if it had. "It's…nothing. Nevermind. I thought I heard something. That's all," Jack muttered almost to himself.

"What do you think you heard?" Norrington pressed with a frown. "It wasn't Lorelac again, was it?"

"No it wasn't bloody Lorelac, you witless fool! And why should you care if it was? Why should you care about me anyway? Your kind kills mine. Oh wait, I forgot. They discharged you without a word. I guess you have no kind now, do you? Bloody useless," Jack sneered before gaping a little. "I-I didn't mean to say that," he said in a small voice, his eyes wide.

"Oh? Well what did you mean then, Sparrow?" Norrington asked just as coldly. "Go ahead. Take your shot. You're right, you know. I don't have a place in this bloody world anymore. The Navy was all I knew and now it's been taken away from me. Go ahead, laugh. I'm sure this must be very amusing to you."

"James," Will started, not quite understanding what the hell was going on.

"No, let him speak. He obviously has something to say. Let him bloody well say it!" Norrington seethed. Outwardly, he was as unruffled as ever save for his biting words, but inside he was fuming.

"I…I don't have anything to say," Jack said softly, seeming to sink in on himself. Gone was the brash pirate captain of old. In his place was a broken shell of a man that Will couldn't stand to see.

"Then why did you say it, Jack?" Will stepped in to ask, giving Norrington a chance to calm down a little.

"I don't know," Jack said softly, keeping his eyes down on the ground.

"What do you mean you don't know? Surely you must know why you said it?" Norrington pressed, calmed down a little but still profoundly irritated.

"I don't," Jack insisted. "I don't know why I said it. I didn't bloody mean it. I just…said it," he said with a slightly worried frown. Lorelac _was_ gone, wasn't he? Yes, he was. But then why had he snapped at Will and Norrington? He truly hadn't meant to say the things he had. "Just leave me alone. I'm fine. Just…leave me be."

Norrington and Will exchanged a concerned glance. Norrington was no longer upset. He could tell Jack truly hadn't meant what he had said. "I do not doubt you, Jack, but are you absolutely certain Lorelac is gone?"

"Yes, I'm bloody well certain, you useless little worm, and your questions are beginning to bloody well annoy me," Jack spit out coldly. If it hadn't been for the fact that Jack's eyes remained their original dark color, Norrington would have been certain he was talking to Lorelac. As soon as the words were out of Jack's mouth, his eyes widened and he slumped a little in defeat. "I don't know what's wrong. I don't know why I say those things. Just…leave me alone before I say something worse," he said wearily.

"We know you don't mean to say those things, Jack. What we don't know is why you're saying them," Will explained with a small frown.

"I was possessed by a bastard demon for over a month, Will. There will be consequences. Maybe this is one. Not to mention this bloody tattoo is still here," Jack said with a scowl, holding up his left arm to punctuate his point. The tattoo remained as it had been earlier, starting at his middle and ring fingers and winding up his arm to stop at his shoulder.

"Do you mind if I take a look at it, Jack," Will asked softly, not wanting to risk the anger Jack seemed unable to control again.

Jack shrugged. "If you like. I don't care," he said, holding out his arm for Will to look at it. _They're both worthless, you know. There's nothing either of them can do to help you. They're both useless, witless fools and I think you know it. You're on your own, Jackie boy. _

"You just shivered, Jack. Are you alright?" Will asked after taking Jack's arm in his hands.

"I'm alright. Just a chill," Jack said absently.

"What are you thinking about, Jack?" Norrington asked, seeing Jack stare off into the room, his eyes fixed on nothing. He didn't believe the shiver had just been a chill any more than Will did. "If you want to talk about it…" Norrington trailed off, assuming that Jack was thinking about the things that Lorelac had done during that long month.

"I don't," Jack said coldly, his eyes going hard. "Are you going to look at the blood thing or are you just going to sit there like a fool?" he asked Will with a sneer, watching the young blacksmith stare back at him, Jack's tattooed arm still in his hands.

Will just looked down at Jack's arms, trying not to take Jack's heated words to heart. The look of horror that passed over Jack's face after he had said them helped a little. "It really is somewhat beautiful if you didn't know the meaning behind it," Will said, his eyes following the intricately woven black lines up Jack's arms. "Did you even find out its purpose?"

"No. I can only guess that it was something to mark that…Lorelac," it was hard to say his name, "was within me. But I don't know why it's still there," he said with an emotionless face. If he was worried about the remaining vestige of Lorelac's possession, he didn't show it.

###

Elizabeth watched the trio without expression, not knowing what to think. Standing across the room were two men that loved her and one who'd raped her. And they were all her friends. Or at least they all _were_ her friends. Now…she wasn't so sure. One thing she was sure of however was the fact that she had never felt more alone in her entire life. Not even after her mother had died.

Not for the first time, she wished she had a female companion to talk to. No, not just a companion, a real friend. She needed someone to whom she could share this terrible burden; the knowledge that she was pregnant with Captain Jack Sparrow's child. A man who was _not_ her fiancé. The knowledge combined with a look in Will's-and consequently Jack's-direction made her want to weep.

The only person who didn't play a part in this was James. A fact that made her care all the more for him. She didn't love him, she didn't think she ever would, but he was a good man who deserved her friendship if nothing else. Vaguely she wondered what Norrington would do if she shared her secret with him. But she would never deem to put him in such a position. He would be caught between conflicting loyalties. On the one hand, he would be honor bound to keep her secret. But on the other, Will was his friend and her fiancé and deserved to know. Not to mention the fact that Norrington might yet challenge Jack to defend her bruised honour. Elizabeth had no doubt Will might do the same. Despite the close friendship he and Jack shared.

No, she wouldn't tell anyone. Not until she had to.

###

Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean of the coast of Spain, merchant ship The Intrepid, 1673

The fight that had ensued between the Intrepid's men and the invading pirates was brutal. Men fell screaming and bloodied to the deck, merchant and pirate alike. Jack saw one of the ship's best men fall to the now bloodied deck, his body nearly cut in half by a pirate's sharp sword. He had never imagined men capable of such violence. Well, that wasn't entirely true. But having something of an idea that men could inflict such wrongs against one another and seeing it in action were two entirely different things.

"Jack! Where are you, you educated fool?" Emmett's voice called out over the din of the fight.

Jack rolled his eyes at the title but made his way to the edge of the battle and caught Emmett's eye. So far, he hadn't found a single man. Not that he couldn't defend himself if pressed, he simply would rather avoid confrontation than meet it head on. Emmett seemed the other type if he blood on his sword was any indication. "You're wounded!" Jack exclaimed upon seeing the blood on Emmett's shirt as he came closer. "I'll fetch the doctor!"

"No, don't. He's got better things to do than to take care of me right now. I'm fine, Jack. How are you?"

"I'm not having nearly as much fun as you seem to be," he said wryly. "I haven't even been in a fight yet. They seem to be avoiding me for some reason. Isn't that strange?"

Emmett froze. "Yes, that's very strange, Jack," he muttered before looking at him seriously. "Listen to me, Jack. You remember how I said about how not all pirates are interested in taking your life but just your money, Jack?"

"Yes, Emmett, why are you telling me this? You don't expect me to give into them, do you? Because I won't. I'd rather die than give these thieving bastards anything," he seethed.

"No, listen to me, Jack. I know this ship. The Hangman's Knuckles. I've heard it before. If we…lose, don't let yourself be taken alive. Do you understand, Jack? Do _not_ let yourself be taken alive!"

"What do you mean, Emmett?" Jack asked with confused frown.

"I mean that there are some fates worse than death, you educated fool, and these pirates practice all of them. Now promise me. I can't go back to fighting unless you understand that."

"Back to fighting? Emmett, you're hurt! You can't be expected to still fight! Get to the doctor! I haven't even had one fight yet! I'll take your place!" Jack pleaded with him in a worried voice. Emmett was his only friend aboard this floating purgatory and he didn't want to lose him to a pirate's sword. He had seen too many men fall already and Emmett was little more than a child.

"You can fight if you want, Jack. I'm not going to stop you. But I'm not going to stop fighting either. Not until all the pirates are dead…or I am. But if you're going to fight, Jack, fight to kill. If you had heard the stories I have about them, you wouldn't hesitate to kill them all."

"I won't, Emmett. I know the stories. I know pirates do to people. I've always known," Jack said in a bitter voice that made Emmett frown to hear it. "Don't worry about me. Worry about yourself. I'd…miss your presence if you were dead," Jack said somewhat stiffly.

"I'd miss your presence too, Jack," Emmett said with an honest smile that made him look even younger than he was while the blood on his sword and the firm crinkle of his brow made him seem that much older. It was hard to tell sometimes who was the oldest of the pair of unlikely friends. Jack had always looked younger than he actually was, and it seemed Emmett always looked more mature for his age. "But don't you worry about your pal Emmett," he continued, his smile evolving into a broad grin. "I've been fighting off pirates ever since I came aboard." The grin faltered a little. "Just keep what I said in mind, Jack. If it comes down to going with them as their prisoner or putting a bullet in me own head I'd chose the bullet every time."

Jack didn't think he'd be able to take his own life, but he nodded none the less. "Stick with me Jack, I won't let anyone get you," Emmett promised, completely serious.

"Stick with me, Emmett, and I'll do the same for you," Jack responded with a grin matching Emmett's infectious one.

"The pirates bloody well better watch out then, because here we go!" Emmett roared a rather impressive battle cry and rushed back into the battle head on, his sword drawn up over his head with the sun glinting off of its sharp blade menacingly. Jack could only do the same.

###

"What are you thinking about, Jack? You haven't said a word in over ten minutes and frankly, it's beginning to worry me. You normally never shut up," Will tried to joke, but the smile on his face seemed forced.

"Something I thought I had forgotten and now wish had stayed buried," Jack muttered, not looking at him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Will asked, turning to look at Norrington as the movement of the former military man's pacing caught his eye.

Jack had been about to say not really, but he made the mistake of looking up into Will's sincere eyes and sighed. "I've been remembering."

"Remembering what, Jack?" Will asked, almost afraid of what the answer might be.

"Remembering when I was younger. When I wasn't…Jack Sparrow but," he took a breath, "Edward John Corentin Alexandre Sperling. God, I hate that name. I hated it then, and I still hate it now."

Will let out a short laugh at that then leaned over to whisper to Jack. "It could be worse, and if you tell _anyone _what I'm about to tell you, I'll see that you're properly hung this time being the improper pirate that you are," he muttered, but his eyes weren't completely serious. "My full name is William _Amadeus _Turner," he said with a wince.

Jack let out a genuine laugh at that, startling the occupants of the room. It wasn't much, but it lightened Will's heart to hear it. "I know, Will. Your father told me. I tried to talk him out of it but he wouldn't listen to me. He said you had to go through the same suffering he did, you being a junior and all," Jack said with a soft smile.

"You knew? And you never said anything?" Will asked with a confused frown.

"Of course I knew, and as you can see it wouldn't have been my place really to point fingers. Not with a name like mine," he said with a small smile.

"No, I suppose you're right," Will said with a nod. "What were you remembering?"

Jack sighed and took a deep breath. "When I was 20, my mother, Katrina, thought it would be a good idea for her only son to get a broader view of the world. She sent me to spend a year on my Cousin Sebastian's merchant ship as a cabin boy. I bloody hated it."

"You, Captain Jack Sparrow, most infamous pirate in the ocean, said to be born full grown from the sea itself, hated being on a ship?" Norrington asked wryly, surprising both men. They hadn't known he'd been listening. "Oh, and Will? Since I overheard your full name without you wanting to, my full name is James Christopher Michael Norrington III. Nothing too embarrassing, granted, but a bloody mouthful none the less. Be grateful for only three names," he muttered.

"And you, my dear Commodore, for you'll always be one to me, should be thankful for only _four_ names," Jack said dryly.

"And you, my dear Captain Edward John Corentin Alexandre Sperling, should continue your story, if you're telling it. It's very rude to end a story abruptly like than and leave your listeners wondering what happens next," Norrington said dryly, trying to keep the mood light like Will was.

Jack rolled his eyes slightly at the use of his full name again, but sighed. "Fine. Yes, I bloody hated the sea. I hated everything but…books, alright? I read a lot, and I didn't go outside hardly at all. It's no wonder my mother wanted me on that ship. She was probably tired of having me around," he said softly, the subject of his mother a hard one to talk about.

"Not a week after we set sail our ship was attacked by pirates. The Hangmen's Knuckles captained by Zachariah Kruler," Jack said with both a small shudder and a sneer at the memory.

"Dear Lord. I've…heard of him," Norrington said softly, utterly horrified.

Will turned to Norrington for more information since Jack seemed to have clammed up on the topic.

"Captain Zachariah Kruler…is an aptly named man, Will. He was one of the most feared and ruthless pirates in the Caribbean once upon a time.  He gave no quarter to his prisoners. It was said that any man, woman or child who came across him died a slow and excruciating death. He's one of the worst pirates on record, Will. A true sadist of a man. Some of the things I've read about-thank God, I've only just read of these things-would make your skin crawl and your blood turn to ice. May he burn in hell for all eternity," he said with conviction before turning to Jack. "And you said your ship was attacked by his? And you survived? When was this?"

"1673," Jack said, becoming lost in memories once again. "And who says I survived?"

TBC

A/N: Ok, yes I know that was a really HORRIBLE place to end, but I had to! I've already written some of the next chapter, so hopefully you won't have to wait too long! Thank you for your continued support, patience, and reviews! You guys keep me writing. You really do.

Reviewer Responses

Mistress of Destruction: Yes! Ahh that's why I need a beta reader! I noticed that almost right after I posted it, but was too lazy to correct it. :-) And I love Norry! I'm not meaning to hurt him, really! Poor Norry… And yes! Down with Lorelac.

JackFan2: Yes, you know what? I don't think Lorelac's completely gone either. That's funny, huh? _Merrie cackles wickedly_. I like your scenario, and thanks for the complement. I don't entirely know what's going to happen next. Especially concerning Lizzie. She's not talking to me at the moment. I think she's mad. Lol.

Otherhawk: It's ok, you're back now! :-) I wonder about Lorelac too. Something tells me he's not through with Jack yet.

BURN THE R.U.M.: Yes, I'm afraid he will. And you're right about Lizzie being mean. She was somewhat reserved in this chapter though. Somewhat. And no, angry pregnant women with access to weapons are scary!

SS: Sorry you had to wait! And alas, begging and groveling doesn't seem to work. Try constant nagging. ;-)

Ferntree: Yes, I was particularly proud of myself for thinking up that image. I loved it too. Thanks!

FalconWing: Thank you so much for your comments! Sorry this took so long to update! I wish I could say that everything will be right between Liz and Jack again soon, but alas I can't. She's decided to blame him for everything. Now, this may change, hopefully, but for now it's hard to say what will happen next.

Holiday1081: I could never kill Norry! I love that man too much to let him go. He's mine now. :-) I hope you liked more insights into Jack's past. Things are going to get…messy next chapter. The demon is not gone. Sorry to all the Lorelac haters out there, but he's not through with me yet. ;-) I'm glad you like the Will/Li conflict. I've also read a lot of fics and I wanted to make them a little more realistic. Couples fight sometimes. It's a sad fact of life. I figured if anything could bring them to a head, it would be Jack.

Swankles: Aww, thanks HF! I would love to see the changing eyes too. That'd be nifty…

OpraNoodlemantra: You have good reason to be worried about Jack's past. _I'm _worried, and I'm the one writing it. And please do! Johnny's Angels is a lot of fun!

NeonDaises: You're an awful distraction, I agree. But I do the same to you so I'm not really one to talk. ;-) Thanks for the review!

Again, thanks to everyone!!! See you next chapter!!!

-Merrie


	6. Chapter 5: Story Telling and Suffering T...

A Gilded Cage: Sequel to Broken Wings, Part II of the Fallen Sparrows Trilogy

A Pirates of the Caribbean story by Merrie

Disclaimer: They're still not mine. Although if they were…they'd probably all hate me for what I do to them, so I suppose it's just as well.

Summary: Captain Jack has been possessed by a demon god by the name of Lorelac who's used Jack to become the most infamous, hated, and wanted pirate in the ocean. Can Jack reclaim his life back? Will Elizabeth and Will be able to help while encountering problems of their own? And what about Chief Norrington? Sequel to Broken Wings.

Characters: Captain Jack Sparrow, Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann, Chief James Norrington, Captain Zachariah Kruler

Author's Note: This was a fun chapter that I had outlined in my head long ago. I hope you all like it.

Rating: R for violence, language, and much much angst.

Chapter 5: Story Telling and Suffering Time

_"1673," Jack said, becoming lost in memories once again. "And who says I survived?"_

"Jack, don't be foolish. Of course you survived. You wouldn't be sitting here talking to us if you hadn't," Will pointed out with a slight frown, not liking the brooding mood Jack seemed to have slipped into. He liked it even less that Norrington seemed to be a half a step away from joining him.

None of the three men noticed Elizabeth moving closer to hear Jack's story. She was still beyond mad at him, but it was a cold, emotionless anger and she wanted to hear what he had to say. She, like Norrington had heard stories of Captain Zachariah Kruler; enough to know how rare it was for people to survive his presence. That Jack had was nothing short of unbelievable, and she wanted to know how.

"I don't think he means physically survived, Will," Norrington said softly. "A man can be made to endure quite of a lot of things and come out alive but not whole. Do you understand?" While Norrington's words were to Will, his gaze was firmly locked on Jack's still form. If the pirate captain noticed the attention he gave no sign.

"No, I don't," Will said with a slight frown.

"I pray that you never do, Will. No man should," Jack's voice floated up to him.

"So do I," Norrington whispered, exchanging a knowing glance with Jack. The two men seemed to have shared something incredible in that single glance alone, but it wasn't something Will or Elizabeth could ever hope to understand. They simply did not know. They hadn't seen the things these two men had.

"Tell us about it Jack. Please," Will asked softly, wanting no _needing_ to know what had put that bleak light in Jack's eyes when he spoke about someone Will had never even heard of before.

Jack didn't want to. He didn't want to let the group of overeager friends into his soul. He didn't want them to know the darkness that he kept inside; the horrible things he had seen in his lifetime. He knew that just by his telling each and every one of them would be plagued by nightmares for many nights to come. He himself had grown used to the constant waking up in the middle of the night gasping for breath or when they were especially horrible-screaming. There was no need for them to be exposed to his personal little hell. But the look in Will's eyes forced the words to flow from his lips. The young blacksmith looked so earnest; so willing and needing to know what haunted his friend. He wanted to know how to help, Jack could tell. But how could Jack tell him that there was no help? That he was beyond all help and that there was nothing anyone could do to change that? But still he spoke.

WWW

Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of Spain, merchant ship The Intrepid, Captain Sebastian Sperling, 1673

Jack didn't dare give up his hiding place for two reasons: one, he didn't want to be found by any of the pirates that had seemingly taken over the ship, or were about to, and two, Emmett.

Emmett lay shivering and bleeding beside him, clearly wanting to charge in the face of all danger and single-handedly reclaim the ship-the tension in his right hand as he gripped the hilt of his sword made this obvious-but lacking the energy to do so. He had been gravely wounded and Jack feared that if he did not gain the help of a surgeon soon, he would surely die.

Jack could still hear some fighting above decks, which oddly reassured him that his cousin Sebastian was still alive. Perhaps this was foolish, but Jack couldn't help think that only when Captain Sperling drew his last breath would the battle be ended and the Intrepid truly lost.

"Jack?" Emmett whispered desperately, speaking around bloodied lips and tongue. "What the bloody hell is happening up there? Are we winning?"

Jack did not think so, damned himself for thinking such thoughts, and told Emmett the truth: "I do now know," he whispered back, praying that they were not overheard.

"Do not lie to me, Jack. You aren't any good at it," Emmett managed to say dryly despite his circumstances.

"I simply lack proper practice," Jack responded, trying to lighten the somber mood a little.

"You'll not be getting that practice now. Tell me the truth, Edward." Emmett hacked out the syllables of Jack's proper name to let Jack know he was being serious, but the effect was wasted. Jack could do nothing but fear for his friend-his only-'s health when he saw a thin trickle of blood slide past Emmett's parted lips.

"Stop bloody looking at me as if I were about to keel over at any second, Jack. It's bloody irritating."

"Sorry." The sounds of fighting above them had ceased. Jack and Emmett both grew very quiet and very still. There were no more whispered conferences after that.

WWW

Jack paused, the telling of this particular tale clearly weighing heavily upon him. Norrington didn't bother asking the pirate captain if he was alright; it was clear that he was not. Jack's skin had gone pale beneath his still dark tan, and he seemed to be staring intently at the lines of the tattoo-or whatever it bloody was-upon his left hand. A hand which Norrington noticed was trembling. No one dared speak.

"They found us of course; the pirates." Jack's sudden speaking again seemed to startle the occupants of the room even though each of them had been waiting for him to continue. "We weren't hidden very well, and Emmett… He was bleeding heavily. They just followed the trail. We fought, but it was no use."

WWW

Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of Spain, pirate ship The Hangman's Knuckles, Captain Zachariah Kruler, 1673

Jack wanted to weep as he saw the Intrepid burning in the distance as he was being rowed over to the much larger pirate ship, his arms bound behind his back tighter than was necessary, but he didn't dare. He didn't have anywhere to go but to David Jones' if he escaped, and he couldn't feel his arms to swim with any longer anyway. He didn't bother asking them to loosen his bonds though. He knew they wouldn't.

Emmett leaned heavily against his right side, and Jack could feel his friend' blood soaking through the once pristine linen of his shirt. He didn't care. He chanced a quick look to see how his friend was faring, and upon seeing him, was inclined to speak up and damn the consequences. "My friend needs a surgeon. We're of no use to you dead. You cannot receive a ransom for a corpse." Jack knew that Emmett's family, if he had one, likely had no money with which to pay such a ransom, but the pirates didn't, and Jack was sure his mother would be more than willing to pay to get them both free. His family didn't have a lot of money per se, enough to get by, but Katrina Sperling was a good woman who wouldn't let innocents suffer. The pirates however didn't seem to take this into account.

"He's no use to us at all." By the time this statement became clear to Jack, Emmett's body was being pushed out of the boat, nearly taking them all into the drink with it as the boat rocked alarmingly. Jack hadn't heard the pistol shot, and he hadn't really understood just what it was either until he felt a hot spray of Emmett's blood coat his right cheek and chin. Jack managed to close his eyes before it happened, keeping his vision clear of the red wave, but he could taste Emmett's life on his lips and almost retched. But he didn't. He couldn't. He couldn't show weakness in front of these pirates. If he was about to die, it was going to be as a man. He watched the sea claim Emmett's body and wanted to join him, but it seemed as if it wasn't his time to die quite yet. His eyes followed his only friend's last movements and shed not a single tear, filled with the grim feeling that Emmett had been the lucky one.

The pirates just laughed at the sight of the well-dressed young man in front of them spattered with blood like a sloppy butcher-Jack didn't bother wiping any of it away, not that he had hands free with which to do so-but he paid them no mind. His only thoughts were of his mother and sister. What would happen to them after he was dead? Would they even know what fate had befallen him? Would they come looking for him? He hoped not.

The pirates were still laughing as they practically carried him up the rope ladder hanging over the side of the ship, still not untying his hands. Jack could hardly feel his fingers anymore. Once he had reached the deck he was shoved hard from behind, the intent being to force him to he knees or send him crashing down chin-first without free arms to brace himself, but he managed to keep his footing by sheer force of will. The pirates stopped laughing.

"You're either very brave, or very stupid. Since you allowed yourself to be taken alive, I'm leaning toward the latter." The pirate who whispered this was shaking his head in a manner that seemed almost regretful, the silver bells that he had strung through his hair ringing softly as he did so.

Jack just stood and started at him for a minute, his eyes fixed on the chain of bells that ran from the pirate's left ear to his left nostril. He couldn't help but thinking as he lost count of how many bells the pirate had attached to his face in some manner that it must be difficult to sneak up on people with all of those bells making noise. Then again, the man was quiet large; he probably didn't need to sneak up on people. Jack didn't know what possessed him to be thinking such banal thoughts about one of his captors so soon after Emmett's death, but he couldn't seem to stop himself.

"No matter. If you're still alive once the Captain's through with you, you'll either be insane or wish you were, but you won't be dead." The belled pirate paused before continuing. "You won't be alive either, but you won't be dead. The time for such mercies has passed." With this, the pirates were finally able to push Jack forward down onto the deck, but he managed to turn himself before he hit, so he saved himself a broken jaw but not a sound knock to the head which sent him spiraling into unconsciousness.

WWW

"I'm sorry, Jack. To lose a friend like that… It must have been awful," Will whispered when Jack had paused again.

Jack looked up at the sound of Will's voice, his hand going for a pistol that wasn't there as he was startled. Once he seemed to remember where he was he relaxed a little and gave Will a humourless smile that must have pained him, for Will could see how swollen Jack's mouth had gone, and remembered that Jack was missing yet another tooth. A wave of guilt passed over him as he realized that while listening he had forgotten about the people around him and their ailments: Jack's missing tooth, Norrington's swollen throat and injured hand, and Elizabeth… There were too many ills stacked against Elizabeth to name. He spared a glance in Elizabeth's direction but quickly looked away again as he met her eyes as she stared back at him. He didn't know quite why he had done it; his eyes had been turned in another direction before he could think to look away. Jack's voice interrupted Will's thoughts.

"Don't be sorry for Emmett. I'm not. He was better off." Jack voice had grown bitter and filled with more than a little hate at talk of Emmett's fate which made Jack's audience-save Elizabeth-shudder to hear. Elizabeth didn't react because her mind was currently going over the comparison between the man who had…raped her, and the man she was currently listening to and nearly feeling sorry for. At first, there had been almost none save appearance. The more Jack spoke however, the more the list of similarities between him and Lorelac grew. It was_ this_ sudden realisation that truly caused Elizabeth to shudder. The shuddering only increased when Jack began to speak again.

"It was then that I met Captain Kruler for the first time." Jack's voice was clipped and emotionless, and while his eyes met Will's, it was clear he wasn't looking at the blacksmith. "Captain Zachariah was a singular man. I was fortunate to have met him."

"Fortunate? From what I know of the man, I doubt that very much Jack," Norrington said softly, frowning at Jack's words.

"No, I was fortunate. He taught me everything I know about being a pirate," Jack responded softly. It was Norrington's turn to shudder. He almost didn't want to hear what came next, but he couldn't turn away.

WWW

Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of Spain, pirate ship The Hangman's Knuckles, Captain Zachariah Kruler, 1673

Jack wasn't quite sure what was happening any longer, but from the way his captors had grown deathly silent, he knew it couldn't be good. He could only assume he was about to meet his death, and oddly enough that knowledge reassured him. It was hard to be afraid of something that was inevitable. That he hadn't been killed already gave him pause, but he didn't let it bother him. Perhaps they just wanted to find out who he was and what he could give them before they killed him. "Going to see the captain, am I? You should have told me. I'm not properly attired for such a meeting," Jack muttered dryly under his breath as he was led to what he assumed was the captain's cabin. The comment earned him a sound knock across his jaw that loosened a few of his teeth.

"If you want to keep that tongue of yours inside your head you'll learn to speak civil," the same belled pirate hissed at him. He had been the one that had hit him and Jack could still hear ringing, although he didn't imagine it was coming from the pirate anymore.

Jack figured that speaking now would only earn him another blow to the head so he settled for a nod as he was pushed into the large cabin. The cabin was plush but simply furnished in dark colours. Jack scanned it quickly for its occupant, but if the captain of the ship he was currently held hostage on was in there, he didn't see him.

"Untie him," a gravelly voice whispered out from the darkness, giving Jack a start. "I like them able to run." To Jack's increasing confusion and fear, the two pirates guarding him did just that before moving to stand behind him like stone pillars. "Leave us. We have much to talk about," the voice spoke again. The pirates left without a word and closed the door behind them, casting the room in utter darkness.

"What are you going to do to me?" Jack called out into the darkness, sounding braver than he felt. He gave a start at the scratching sound of a match being lit and his eyes immediately focused on the small flame as it moved throughout the room to land on a candle wick. Its bearer, however, remained a mystery to him until the lamp was lit and the room was filled with muted light. Jack looked up to meet the eyes of his host and let out a gasp at the pair of extraordinarily strange eyes staring back at him. One-the right one-was normal enough; of a pale blue or grey, but the other… Captain Kruler's left eye was a mass of the purest black, seeming to stare right through him and into his very soul.

"The crew are afraid of it. They seem to think that I use it to see into their souls," Captain Kruler commented off-handedly when he noticed Jack staring at his eye. That his words echoed Jack's thoughts made him shudder. "I don't deny them this superstition." Captain Kruler moved about the room in front of Jack, but came no closer to him; something Jack was extremely grateful for. "I saw you fighting my men on board your ship earlier, boy. Very impressive. Those were good men and you took them down with a minimum of difficulty."

"I only defended myself. I'm sure any man here would have done the same," Jack insisted, worried that Captain Kruler was angry about the loss of his men.

"Oh no, boy. You see, my men are ones to defend themselves. They like to be the offenders, you see? They like to take lives, not save them. If they die, they die. But there's not a man aboard that wouldn't take out more than twice his number before he went. But you've left me at a bit of an impasse. You killed good men and I've no one to replace them with."

Jack froze, not liking where this was going. Captain Kruler's black eye seemed to glow menacingly as it caught the candlelight. "What do you mean?" he asked cautiously, his eyes darting around the room for a possible escape. There was none.

Captain Kruler gave him a look. "Not yet. You and I have business to attend to first."

Before Jack could ask what he meant by that, Captain Kruler had called the pirate guards back inside the cabin and Jack was led once more to the main deck, only his hands were left free this time.

In the bright light reflected off the sea, Jack was able to get a good look at his captor for the first time. Captain Zachariah Kruler wasn't a large man, but he was clearly imposing. He had jet black hair and a pointed face that looked as if it had seen hard times. If the false eye was any indication, this was certainly the truth. When he spoke, it was through a thick Irish brogue that reminded Jack of home. It was then that he realised just how much he missed England, his family, his home, all of it. He missed knowing what was happening there. He had no idea if Charles the II was still king or someone else; no way of knowing if England was currently at war with France or Spain, what religion was in fashion, or most importantly, what was happening to his family.

"This man dared go against us, men!" Captain Kruler's voice echoed through the eerily silent ship. For an instant, Jack thought Kruler was talking about him, but when he saw his cousin being led forth; his hands tied behind his back and his face swollen and bloodied, he knew he was here to witness, not stand accused.

"No… Sebastian," Jack whispered in horror. If former captain Sebastian Sperling heard or saw him, he gave no sign. Jack made a move as if to run to his cousin, but was held back by a strong arm. It was attached to the same belled pirate who had seemed to have become a permanent fixture at Jack's side.

"You're here to watch, boy. Nothing more. Interfere, and you'll be sorry," the pirate hissed.

Jack wanted to argue, but something told me an argument, no matter how well worded, wouldn't get him far with this group. He had nothing else to do but watch in silent horror, fearing what was about to take place.

WWW

Jack needed to take a breath and clear his thoughts. He knew his audience would be dying to know what happened, but he just couldn't do it. He couldn't go on digging the past out of him in shattered shards without at least taking a break now and again. He was fortunate that his listeners seemed to understand this at least.

"Take as much time as you need, Jack," Norrington said softly. Will inclined his head in agreement.

"Why are you telling us any of this?" Elizabeth spoke up suddenly, startling them all. "No one asked you to."

"I know. I…want to. I haven't told anyone about this…not even," Jack paused and took a breath. "I didn't even tell Anamaria."

"It's alright, Jack. We're not going anywhere. We'll listen to what you have to tell us," Will said, casting a glance in Elizabeth's direction. Things were strained between them, and between Elizabeth and Jack; everyone in the room could feel it, but no one knew what to do about it.

Elizabeth didn't say a word, but shot both Will and Jack that couldn't be called 'kind' in any sense of the word.

Will had the grace to look chagrined, but Jack just looked resigned and sorrowful. He knew he would pay for what he had done to Elizabeth. It was only a matter of time.

"What happened next, Jack?" Norrington asked after a few minutes of complete and awkward silence had passed. "They killed your cousin, didn't they?"

Jack gave him a bitter smile. "Yes they did. Before my very eyes. But not before they had made my presence known, that is. They thought it would be amusing to see Sebastian's reaction."

WWW

Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of Spain, pirate ship The Hangman's Knuckles, Captain Zachariah Kruler, 1673

Jack was pushed forward into Sebastian's line of sight, unbound and uninjured, a striking contrast to his cousin.

"Edward? Is that you?" Sebastian asked in a quiet, broken voice that made Jack's stomach lurch.

"Yes, Sebastian. It's me," Jack said softly, moving closer to his cousin. The pirates surrounding them had gone quiet; wanting to know what was happening.

"Edward…you're ok," Sebastian said with relieved sigh. The two of them had never really gotten along, but family was still family. A small smile made its way to Sebastian's face as he searched Jack for injury. It faded a little when he found none. Jack had blood on him, but after a moment's examination it was clearly not his. Jack didn't have a scratch on him. And he was unbound. He was moving about the pirate ship as a free man, unharmed by any of the pirates surrounding them while Sebastian was bound and beaten. Sebastian took a step back from him and his face dissolved into a mask of hate. "Traitor! You fucking bastard! What did they offer you to betray your own blood, you snake?!"

Jack recoiled as if he had been slapped. "I-I didn't," he stuttered out, unbelieving that Sebastian could even think such a thing. He wouldn't betray his family. Surely Sebastian must know that.

"Liar!" Sebastian roared, spitting toward Jack viciously. The glob of saliva and blood hit its mark on Jack's cheek where it remained. "If I have to make my way through hell itself to find you, I will and I will make you suffer," Sebastian hissed. "You're life is forfeit. You're no family of mine. Your mother and sister will die cursing your name, of that I'm certain."

Jack could only stand there at this point, utterly bereft and unable to speak a word through Sebastian's tirade. Just when he was about to make a reply-he wasn't sure what he was going to say, but he had to say something-he was covered in a spray of blood as Sebastian's throat was slit from behind.

"I must say, he had some rather intriguing ideas," Kruler commented as he watched Sebastian sink to his knees, cursing Jack with every glance even as his life blood escaped him. "We'll do as he wished of course. It wouldn't be right of me to deny a dying man his last request. It will be known in every corner of the known world that you betrayed your family and your ship to us."

"No, that's not, not true," Jack moaned, rushing to his cousin's side as the former captain grew still, his eyes staring up at Jack with hate even in death.

"Soon enough, you'll even come to believe it. Welcome to the Hangman's Knuckles, Mr. Sperling."

TBC

A/N: I'm evil. This, I know. Sorry this took so long to post. I've been suitably chastened, I assure you. Next chapter will be up in a week or so.

Reviewer Responses:

FIRST OF ALL, TO ALL REVIEWERS I AM A MILLION TIMES SORRY FOR THE LENGTH BETWEEN POSTING!!!!

A very special thanks to Jackfan2, Holliday1081, ellenar, BURN THE R.U.M.., Gaze, FalconWing, SS, Shwankles, Otherhawk, OpraNoodlemantra, Mistress of Destruction, Bules and Typically Head Over Heels. Sorry I can't respond to you all individually like normal, but I figured you'd forgive me this once in the knowledge that I got the chapter out just a little sooner. At least, I hope so. Hope to see you all again, you guys are the best!!

-Merrie


	7. Chapter 6: Ravaging and Running

A Gilded Cage: Sequel to Broken Wings, Part II of the Fallen Sparrows Trilogy

A Pirates of the Caribbean story by Merrie

Disclaimer: They're still not mine. Although if they were…they'd probably all hate me for what I do to them, so I suppose it's just as well.

Summary: Lorelac is seemingly gone, Jack remains as one of the most wanted men in the known world, Elizabeth's still pregnant, Will still doesn't know, Norrington's still without a job, and Jack's still got more of his grisly past to share.

Characters: Captain Jack Sparrow, Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann, Chief James Norrington, Captain Zachariah Kruler

Author's Note: How about that? I got this chapter up just when I said I would for a change. Kudos to me! I hope you all enjoy this chapter. It was fun to write.

Rating: R for violence and language.

Chapter 6: Ravaging and Running

Jack didn't know how much time had passed while he had been telling his story. He knew he probably wasn't safe here-he was the most wanted pirate in the ocean at present-but he couldn't make himself leave, and even if he did, he didn't know where to go.

"I've heard that Captain Kruler was renowned for his cruelty, but dear God, I never imagined. Did he really tell everyone that you betrayed your ship?" Norrington asked with a deep frown.

Jack nodded. "In every way he could. He made me out to be some kind of ruthless criminal. Said I'd killed Sebastian myself out of pure spite."

"But…that wasn't true. Why would he do something like that? Why wouldn't he and his crew just take the credit?" Elizabeth asked slowly.

Jack fidgeted at the question, an indefinable emotion passing across his face before he answered. "They did it to hurt me; to make be come to believe what wasn't true. They were trying to break me. And it was working."

"Why you? I mean, why didn't they just kill you?" Will asked tentatively. "Not that I'm not glad they didn't, but why didn't they?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't know why they sought me out at first. Perhaps it was the way I was dressed; I was clearly better off than anyone else on board. Maybe it was the way I looked. I didn't know then, and I still don't really know now."

"What did they do with you?" Norrington was almost afraid to ask.

Jack hesitated a long time before speaking, long enough that Norrington thought he wasn't going to answer. Just when he had been about to tell him to forget he'd asked anything, Jack spoke up. "It wasn't enough that they broke my mind. That was important, but they had to break my body to before I'd fully be theirs."

WWW

Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean, pirate ship The Hangman's Knuckles, Captain Zachariah Kruler, 1674

"How long have you been with us now, Jack? Quite a few months by my count. And still you insist on trying to escape. You're going to have to be punished for that you know. It's not right that our little sparrow fly off now is it boys? You'd think he didn't want to be here with us, wouldn't you?" The pirates surrounding Captain Kruler and Jack made appropriate comments to appease their captain.

"Why won't you just let me go?" Jack moaned wearily, not bothering to wipe the blood off of his chin from the split lip he'd just been given. There was no point when the rest of your face was bloodied to match.

The smile Captain Kruler sent him at the question was nothing short of chilling, but Jack had become used to it over time. "We've gone over this, little sparrow," Kruler said in an almost kind voice that chilled Jack even more than the smile did. "You're ours now. Your wings are clipped and you'll never be let go. And truly if you did go, where would you run? Your family has turned their back on you for your betrayal. They know you sold out your family and crew, that you got your friend killed. This ship is your home now. There is no where else."

Jack didn't bother arguing with such dogma. He had once, but the argument had been beaten out of him until there was nothing left but grim acceptance. A part of him still screamed out his innocence-that he hadn't betrayed anyone-but that part was slowly being drowned out by despair. What was the use of fighting anymore? Kruler was right. Wasn't he? "Yes, Captain," Jack said despondently.

Captain Kruler's eyes narrowed and the gathered crew surrounding him collectively held their breath. "Yes what, little sparrow?"

_Little sparrow._How he hated that name now. What had once been a kind pet name from his mother's lips was turned into a hateful moniker from Captain Kruler's. The crew had even started to call him little Jack Sparrow, laughing raucously as they did so. Something black crawled along his spine as he thought of ways to make them stop calling him that. Unfortunately, some of this hateful spite he was feeling made its way to his face where Kruler saw it and interpreted it as rebellion.

Jack's world spun and darkened as he fell to the deck from Kruler's blow. At first he didn't know what had happened, and it was in a daze that he reached up a roughly calloused hand to his mouth and extracted a bloodied tooth into his palm. _I just lost a tooth._ Jack thought numbly, staring down at the bloodied thing. He let it fall to the deck out of a limp hand and rose to his feet. He had learned through much prior experience that if he cowered, cried, or complained about the harsh treatment in any way, he would just earn himself an even worse beating than he had already suffered.

"I asked you a question, little sparrow," Kruler hissed through clenched teeth. His right arm was tense; preparing to hit Jack again if it was deemed 'necessary.'

Jack's mind raced as he tried to remember what Kruler had asked him and to think up an answer that wouldn't get him hit again. "I won't try and run away again. This is my home."

Kruler nodded, seemingly appeased. "Good, my little sparrow." He turned to two of the pirates at Jack's side-the belled one that Jack had discovered was named Xavier, and a truly vicious son of a French pox ridden whore named Alexander. "See that he gets ten lashes for disobedience."

Jack's world shifted as the men grabbed his arms and began to pull him to the midmast where he would be bound with his back bared to the whip to receive his 'punishment'. "What? No! I did what you told me to do! I didn't disobey! Please!" Jack pleaded, desperate not to feel the sting of the whip again. It was one of Captain Kruler's most favored past times. Jack had been lashed more times than he could count over the course of his 'stay' onboard. Kruler himself wasn't the bearer of the whip, but Jack knew he watched the proceedings avidly.

"Fifteen and saltwater." Came Kruler's clipped reply. Jack moaned and tried to struggle, but the pirate duo held him fast. "Would you like to argue more, little sparrow? 15 lashes won't kill you, but if you try my patience I'll have them give you enough to end your life aboard this ship right now."

Jack almost asked for more then and there, thinking that it must be easier in death than in this hell in which he was currently living. But he didn't. He couldn't. Not yet. Life hadn't gotten bad enough for him to want it to end now, not while there was still a hope that he might escape and see his family again, no matter what he promised to Kruler. He would never stop trying. This wasn't his life. He wasn't a pirate. He wasn't even a sailor for Christ's' sake. He was a scholar who had spent more time with his nose stuck in a book than he ever had on the sea. But that was changing. He no longer grew sick from the roll of the ship; the climb and descent of the waves. He had learned how to move with the ship rather than against it almost without trying. He didn't like to think about such things, but it seemed as if he had almost been born to the sea. Kruler no doubt noticed this as Jack did.

"Bring him to my cabin when you're finished with him," the Captain interrupted his thoughts. Jack shuddered. Time alone with Captain Kruler was almost as bad as the lashing.

"Yes sir," the pirates holding him answered in tandem. Jack put up a few more pathetic struggles, but with their combined bulk and strength they managed to tie him to the mast without much effort after they had stripped him of the dirty linen shirt that had once been white in another lifetime. Jack hissed at that; his back was still horribly sore from the last time he had undergone such torture. Xavier shoved a length of rolled cloth in-between his teeth for him to bite down on so he wouldn't chomp his own tongue off between his already aching mouth.

"We'll get the doc to fix you up a gold tooth later, Jack," Xavier whispered in Jack's ear before he pulled away.

Jack just stared after him, his eyes black with hate. He hated everyone aboard, it was true, but none more so that that fucking belled pirate that made life just a little more horrid by patronizing him with his so-called 'kindness.' He hated them all. As his back was laid out before the bite of the whip, he kept himself from screaming out by envisioning in blood-drenched detail just what he would do to each and every man on this ship before he killed them. He would wait; make them start to disregard their 'little sparrow' and he would get his chance for vengeance.

Anyone who had been watching Jack's face during the lashing might have been a bit taken aback by the truly cold grin that crossed his face.

WWW

"I've still got scars from those bloody bastards and their fucking whip," Jack muttered darkly, looking across the room into his audiences' faces but clearly not seeing a one of them.

"How often did it happen, Jack?" Norrington finally spoke up after a few long minutes of silence. While his voice still held the clean and even tones of his obviously rich upbringing, there was something clipped and harsh as he spoke so causally about the gross mistreatment Jack had suffered at the pirates' hands. He had just been a boy, for heaven's sake! An innocent. Such thoughts made him want to go pirate hunting again.

"Every few weeks or so. Just long enough for my back to nearly heal before they did it again. But they had plenty of other ways to punish me in the mean time, I assure you," he said bitterly. "But such things are better left not talked about," he said after a long moment of silence. He had been about to speak again when a loud knocking sound interrupted him. He jumped immediately to his feet, his hand searching out a sword off of a nearby table without thought.

Will ran to the window and looked out, his face pressed up against the glass as he tried to discern what was going on. "Oh bloody hell. It's the local guards, Jack," he said with a worried frown, pulling away and looking to his friend. "They seem to be going door to door and searching for someone."

"Me," Jack said with an air of resignation. "They're searching for me. They must have spotted The Pearl."

"You can't know that, Jack," Will tried to insist, but his argument sounded hollow even to his own ears.

"Maybe I can go out and talk to them. Perhaps they'll still recognize my authority even if I'm…not in charge any longer," Norrington said firmly, moving across the room to go out and talk to the guards.

"I'll go with you," Elizabeth spoke up softly, moving to stand next to Norrington. Will moved to protest, but she held up a hand. "I'll be alright. They won't harm me, Will. I'm the governor's daughter, remember?"

"None of you bloody fools are doing anything of the sort. I'm leaving out the back way so you might as well stay where you are," Jack spoke up with loud irritation, moving to leave by the other door. Will moved to stand in his way. "This is becoming a bad habit of yours, Will. Once more you are between me and my way out. You remember what happened last time, don't you?"

"Yes, you cheated, got knocked out by Mr. Brown, and arrested by Norrington," Will said dryly.

"Yeah, well that drunken fool's not here, and the Commodore's on my side now." Jack sent a considering glance Norrington's way which Norrington acknowledged with a nod. "So if you would kindly move, I'll be on my way."

"Not until you tell me where you're going. Do you even know, Jack?" Will asked with a frown. "If they're really searching for you, then they've no doubt got someone keeping a close eye on The Pearl. You won't be able to get to it, Jack. And even then, where would you go? You're the most wanted pirate in the ocean at present, Jack. Or had you forgotten?"

"I haven't bloody forgotten," Jack said harshly, his voice like cold steel. "I haven't forgotten a single bloody thing that bastard did while he had control over me and I never will for the rest of my godforsaken life, so don't you dare start insinuating that I have."

Will faltered. "I'm…not, Jack. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. But you're not safe out there."

"I've been looking after myself for longer than you've been alive, lad. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, remember? I'll be bloody fine," Jack said with a grin that looked more than a little forced.

"You're not going to be 'bloody fine,' Jack! Do you know the bounty on your head now? Do you?" Will shouted. "Every man on this island is going to be out for your head! They already are!"

"If it's so bloody much money then why don't you just claim the fucking reward? You could obviously use it, you dimwitted prat!" Jack returned in rage.

The argument went full steam after that, with each man calling out curses and insults to the other. Norrington and Elizabeth could just stand and watch utterly dumbfounded as these two so-called friends tore chunks out of each other with the sword-sharp tongues. The argument had been about to come to blows when Norrington stepped in, forcefully separating the two combatants.

"What in the name of god is going on here?!" Norrington roared over Jack's string of what he assumed to be curses since none of them were in English. "The bloody guards are on their way and you two are arguing like schoolchildren! Stop it, right now!" He wheeled on Will. "You, Mr. Turner are going to stop acting like such a hotheaded young upstart and get us all out of here." Will tried to protest, but Norrington cut him off with a sharp glare before turning to Jack who had been smirking smugly at Norrington's berating of Will. "And you, Captain Sparrow are going to stop acting the fool and use your brain for a change! Now granted it must not be a very good one since you're wasting time by arguing now, but surely you must have one! Now both of you shut the hell up and let's get out of here!"

"The island," Elizabeth spoke up for the first time, looking just as angered with the two men as Norrington did. All three men turned to her; matching expressions of confusion on their faces. "James' island," she elaborated. "We'll be safe there, won't we? James is the chief after all."

Norrington sighed, but nodded. The title still didn't sit well, but it looked to be the only one he had left. "Kiquan will look after us if I tell him to. And we have no other choice." He turned to the two men before him. "Are you two going to stop fighting and remember you're friends again or am I going to have to drag the both of you out by your ears?" Norrington's expression was utterly serious, but Elizabeth couldn't stifle a small laugh at the image such a scene would have made.

Will nodded gruffly, and Jack just pushed past Norrington and headed towards the back door as he had been in the first place. "I don't know where this bloody island of yours is, Commodore, and I don't care. Anyplace is better than this bloody town right now. We just have to get to The Pearl."

"Leave that to me," Elizabeth offered. The men nodded after varying lengths of hesitation, and the group was on its way.

WWW

"I say, Miss Swann was that entirely necessary?" Norrington asked slowly, his fair skin bright red in a vivid blush as they rowed out to the cove where The Pearl was anchored.

"Was what necessary?" Will asked with a confused frown. Elizabeth had done something to get the small group of guards they had encountered to leave them alone, but he hadn't seen nor heard of what it had been.

"It got them to leave, didn't it James?" Elizabeth responded with a bit of coquettishness in her voice. Or maybe Will was just imagining that.

"It, uh, certainly did, Miss Swann," Norrington managed to choke out after clearing his throat rather loudly.

Jack didn't respond. He had seen stranger things in Tortuga than the little 'maneuver' Elizabeth had just pulled off. It was a shame Will hadn't seen it. Although if he had, he might have felt honour-bound to run each of the guards through and that would have only slowed them down. He decided it was better to just keep his mouth shut on that count, and kept his mind on his rowing.

"Just what kind of crew have you currently assembled, Jack?" Norrington asked suddenly while Will was busy trying to get Elizabeth to tell him what she had done. "Are they to be feared or will they follow you?"

Jack sighed and glanced over his shoulder at The Pearl's looming shape as it grew in the distance. "My last crew…_Lorelac's_last crew mutinied. He killed them all in Tortuga when they tried to take himdown. He was forced to pick up a skeleton crew in order to make his way here. There aren't a lot of them, and each one'd be more likely to piss himself than stand up to anyone I say is under my protection," he said softly. "A reputation's a funny thing, init?"

"One minute you're cursing it for the trouble it's brought you, and the next you're relying on it to get you out of that same trouble. I sympathise, Jack," Norrington said with a small smile.

Jack let out a wry snort of amusement at that and shook his head slowly.

"What? Was it something I said?" Norrington asked with a perplexed look on his face that just made Jack laugh.

"Whoever would have thought that you, Commodore James Christopher Michael Norrington III, the world's most well-known and successful pirate hunter would sympathise with me; the most dreaded pirate in the known world. It boggles the mind, mate," Jack said with a short laugh again.

"Yeah, well I'm not a Commodore anymore, and perhaps your insanity is catching," Norrington returned dryly but with a hint of humor in his blue eyes.

"Dear god, I hope not. There is enough of my special brand of madness going around already for you to be adding to it now," Jack said with mock severity. "Just look around. I've turned you all into accomplices to a known fugitive fleeing the law. Not to mention you commandeered a ship to come rescue me on our last little 'adventure,' Father Norrington." Jack's grin was practically splitting his face now. It hurt-his missing tooth was crying out to be recognized-but he had had worse, and he couldn't pass up this opportunity to smile. With the way things were going, he might not have another for quite a long time.

"You heard about that?" Norrington asked in a small voice, his face going red again as he looked side to side surreptitiously to as if to ward off other listeners.

"Bloodiest funny thing I've heard in my life, mate. Wish I could have been there to see it." Jack laughed again before pausing. "'Course, if I had been there, there wouldn't have been need for such dramatics, so it's probably best for humour's sake that I wasn't."

"Indeed," Norrington said dryly.

Jack just grinned at him again and rowed in silence the rest of the way. His grin faded away into nothingness when they approached The Pearl's hull. "We're here."

WWW

Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean, pirate ship The Hangman's Knuckles, Captain Zachariah Kruler, 1674

The sound of gunfire was deafening above him, so Jack covered his ears and prayed that a well aimed cannon blast would sink this godforsaken ship he was imprisoned on. He was currently locked within the cell he had come to know as home, left alone to his musings while the pirate crew above him warred with whoever they set their greedy sights on now. He had been about to offer up a brief prayer for their souls but stopped himself. Why should he care if the pirates killed them all? It wasn't his problem. Such a thought might have troubled him once, but whatever caused the ache in his chest that made him care for the lives of the crew's victims-whether it be God or his conscience-had faded with each ship they sacked and each man that didn't survive to come rescue the captive held within The Hangman's Knuckles' bowels.

_Damn them all. _Jack thought to himself bitterly. _No one is coming to rescue me. Not my family, not anyone. I'm on my own. Like always._ He was a bit taken aback at how bitter his own thoughts sounded, but he had a right to be bitter, didn't he? His family had turned their backs on him for his betrayal-_No, you didn't do it! Remember! It wasn't you!-_and now he was on his own. And what was more, with each man that was killed above, Kruler and his crew seemed to take less interest in killing him. And if the swag they took from the ship was good, that would keep them otherwise occupied even longer. "Kill every last one of them," Jack said fervently, thinking about the times he had suffered when the 'Knuckles' Captain and its crew had been in foul moods. Moods they had taken out on their 'little sparrow.' Jack received more near-death beatings in those thankfully brief periods of time than anytime else he had been here.

Jack was started out of his thoughts by the sound of some one or some thing falling down the stairs and into the brig with him. He rose from his dirt-covered cot to his feet and pressed his nose up against the bars to get a better glimpse of just who or what was coming after him. He didn't dare call out in case it was one of the crew, they would punish him for such an action just because they could, but that didn't dampen his curiosity.

"Hello? Is anyone down here?" An unfamiliar voice called out. By reason that each man of the Hangman's would have known he was down here, Jack assumed it must have been a man from the victim ship. How had he managed to make his way down here?

"I am here," Jack called out softly, moving to stand away from his cell door.

"Speak up, lad! I can't bloody hear you!" The man called out, rubbing his ears. Jack assumed they must have been ringing from all the gunfire on deck. "Prisoner or pirate?" the man asked, standing in front of Jack's cell with a ring of keys that Jack heard the sound of and recognized before he saw them. "And if you lie to me in any way, I'll slit your throat, savvy?"

Jack nodded. "Savvy," he said after a moment's hesitation. "I'm a prisoner, sir."

"I thought as much," the man said, unlocking Jack's cell without pause. "You've just been freed by a member of the British Royal Navy. What is your name, son?"

Jack clearly saw the man's red coat for the first time and nodded. "Little Spar—" Jack paused and frowned.

"Little Spar's not a name I've ever heard, but to each his own I say," the man said wryly.

"My name is Edward John Corentin Alexandre Sperling sir, and I beg your thanks," Jack said quickly. "Most people call me John or Jack, sir."

"Well-met…Jack," the man said with a grin, offering his hand to shake. Before Jack could grab it to shake it however, the military man pulled it back and used it to pull out the sword he had just sheathed. "What did you say your name was, lad?" the man asked with narrowed eyes.

"Edward John Corentin Alexandre Sperling, sir. I don't understand—" Jack was cut off by a blade pressed against his windpipe.

"Traitor! I know who you are, you bloody Judas! Everyone in England does! You're the one who betrayed his family and crew to pirates! I ought to kill you where you stand!" The man spat hatefully. "I think I bloody will! Do the world and your disgraced mother a favour! Die, you dog!"

By all rights, Jack should have been killed then and there. As the military man fell, clutching at his bloodied chest, Jack could only stare in confusion and try to discern what had happened. The man had been lunging for him, about to run him through, and then what? Had he really grabbed at the knife on the man's belt or had that been a dream? Was that the same knife in his hand right now?! _Dear god, it's got blood on it still._ Jack dropped the knife to the ground as it were hot to the touch and backed away from the man he had just killed.

"No, I didn't do it. This isn't happening. I'm not a killer. I'm not!" Jack muttered to himself as he pressed his body against the curve of the ship behind him and sank to the ground. He stayed in that position, still shaking his head and denying what he had done until a voice interrupted his thoughts once more.

"My little sparrow, what have you done? I told you that you were a killer. You believe me now, don't you? Welcome to the family, sparrow." Captain Kruler's laughter drowned out the sound of Jack's cell door once more. Jack didn't even notice it over the sound of his own denial. He wasn't a killer. Kruler was wrong. He hadn't killed anyone. He wasn't a killer. He wasn't! The dead man that Kruler had left to rot just outside his cell spoke otherwise.

TBC

A/N: Ok, I'm evil yes, but hey I got my chapter up on time! That's got to count for something, right? Right? Heh, heh. See you in a week.

Reviewer Response

FalconWing: Sorry Author Alert didn't work. But I'm glad you found the chapter anyway! No, the Hangman's is definitely not a good place to be. But Jack doesn't really have a choice at the moment. :-) And see? I actually updated within a week! Go me!

Holliday1081: Thankfully, you didn't have to wait near as long for this chapter. :-D Thanks so much for the review! Yes, I love Norrington and truly believe that there's more to the man than the uniform. I figured that if anyone could understand Jack best, it would be him. And Norry and Jack do seem to be getting along, which is always nice. ;-) Ahh Liz. Well, Liz is definitely conflicted. She didn't seem as much this chapter, but believe me, it's there. Just wait til she can't hide her pregnancy anymore and then see what kind of "fun" we get! ;-)

Ellenar: An update again! Merrie rejoices And when I said I was going to, too! :-D I really do owe the gang something after this fic's done, don't I? Hmm, maybe I'll write a piece of fun fluff in between this fic and the next one. That could be fun. I could get the boys drunk and Norry tattooed. :-D

OpraNoodlemantra: I updated again! Double yay! :-D Yes indeed, poor poor Jack. I've really been rather mean to him, haven't I? In Broken Wings too. Hmm, I make no apologies. ;-) Yes, I'm not sure whether to slap or console Liz these days either. She's being difficult. Understandable, but she needs to cut it out. :-) She probably won't, but I guess that's just as well. I hope you liked this part of Jack's past. It's going to get much darker soon….

iLuVrAiNeYdaYz: Goodness, that was hard to type out. Lol. Thank you for the review! Feel free to hug Jack any time you like. I know I have. ;-)

Neon Daises: takes a bow I'm very glad you like it. Thanks for betaing this chapter by the way! :-D Yes, I do find myself missing Halia's angst. (I didn't almost call her Aida, that seems to be your problem. ;-)) She had a way of inspiring me to do my worst. Ah well. There's plenty of angst in store, I assure you. insert evil laugh here

To anyone I might have missed, thank you for your reviews! See you in about a week or so with the next chapter! :-D

-Merrie


	8. Chapter 7: Self Reflection and Recrimina...

A Gilded Cage: Sequel to Broken Wings, Part II of the Fallen Sparrows Trilogy

A Pirates of the Caribbean story by Merrie

Disclaimer: Jack, Norry, Will, Liz, Kruler, Lorelac and all others own me. I would never attempt to claim otherwise.

Summary: Lorelac is seemingly gone, Jack remains as one of the most wanted men in the known world, Elizabeth's still pregnant, Will still doesn't know, Norrington's still without a job, and Jack's still got more of his grisly past to share.

Characters: Captain Jack Sparrow, Chief James Norrington, Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann, Captain Zachariah Kruler, Lorelac and various others.

Author's Note: Now, I am a lover of Norrington, I have admitted that in the past, but as I wrote this chapter, I had absolutely no idea that Norrington would take over in such a way. For all intents and purposes, this is definitely a Norry chapter. I'm not quite sure how that happened exactly, but I hope you like it all the same. And have no fear; the rest of the cast is in there too. Just…with Norry.

Rating: R for violence and language.

Chapter 7: Self Reflection and Recrimination

Will sat in the small cabin Jack had assigned him and tried to still his racing nerves. How was it that just a few years ago his life had been rather dull and simple and now he had helped defeat a group of cursed pirates, gotten engaged to the one woman he had always loved, gone on a rescue mission to fight a god and now helped a friend escape the law? It boggled the mind. And yet he could feel the familiar ache in his bones resurface with a vengeance; to be out adventuring again quickened his blood. This is what he had been born for, his body insisted and his heart agreed…but his mind had other plans. _Is this really the kind of life __Elizabeth__ wants? Does she love William Turner the blacksmith? Or William Turner the adventuring son of a pirate? If I decide to give up the sea and its call forever and focus on my work will she still love me? Will she get bored with life in __Port Royal_ Such thoughts had occurred to Will time and time again, and hearing them posed now brought no new answers.

"You're thinking about her, aren't you, Will? About Elizabeth?" Norrington's voice interrupted his thoughts and Will looked up to see the former commodore standing in his doorway, looking almost nothing like his former self. The wig and uniform were gone, and Norrington looked just like every other tradesman of Port Royal with the slight difference that he still carried and conducted himself as the military man he once was. Will had a good idea that if someone had suddenly called out a command of 'Attention!' Norrington would come to without a moment's hesitation. "She's troubled by this ship," Norrington continued softly, his voice still rasping from his near strangulation. "You can see it in her eyes. And by something else."

"I know," Will said with a slight sigh. "We were both held captive here. It's little wonder she's feeling uneasy—"

"No, that's not what I meant, Will," Norrington interrupted gently. "What I meant to say is that I see her looking out over the waves lost in thought; clearly troubled. Something is on her mind, Will. Something she's not yet shared with us. Perhaps it is the…difficulty she had with that bastard demon," Norrington said in a low voice, keeping his speech proper but lacking none of the hot fury that Will felt whenever he thought about how Elizabeth had been raped by a demon wearing his best friend's body. "I think she's happy to be away from Port Royal for awhile, Will. I don't imagine she's told the Governor about what happened to her."

"She probably wouldn't have even told me if she hadn't been forced by Lorelac," Will muttered under his breath bitterly before looking ashamed that he had said such an unfair statement out loud. She would have told him in time. She was going to be his wife, after all. Didn't that mean that they were supposed to share their secrets? Will wasn't so sure anymore. "No, I don't imagine so, either," Will responded loud enough for Norrington to hear. "But she will. She has to. He is her father, after all. He deserves to know."

"Of course," Norrington said automatically, but Will caught a flicker of doubt across the former commodore's face as he said it.

"You don't think the governor should know?" Will asked with a confused frown. Norrington had always looked to Port Royal's interests ahead of his own, and Governor Swann was Port Royal. Not to mention that the two men had been friends for almost as long as Will had known either of them. "Surely you don't believe Elizabeth should keep this from her father? Do you?"

Again Norrington hesitated. "I think it should be left up to her," he said at last. "I learned long ago that is nothing on this earth that will effectively force her to do what she doesn't want to. If she wants to tell her father, she will. In her own time, Will. Do not; I beg you for your own sake, force her to speak of this before she is ready to."

"Do not presume to tell me how to handle my own wife, Norrington," Will said evenly; steel in his voice.

Norrington didn't bother mentioning that Elizabeth wasn't yet his wife, such an action would only lead to an argument or worse; a swordfight, and he was in neither the mood nor the shape for either. Besides, he knew Will was only lashing out at him because of the events of late. It was a lot for one man to take in all at once. "Do forgive me, Mr. Turner," Norrington said with a small bow before turning and exiting Will's cabin in order for the young blacksmith to hopefully cool down.

WWW

Jack ran a hand over the spokes of the wheel that controlled his Pearl with something near reverence at her beauty, and dismay at the ill manner in which she had been treated. Blood still stained the deck from one of Lorelac's little…_escapades_, and Jack was having a nameless crew member attempt to clean it up.

He had barely spoken to anyone on board since setting out from Port Royal save for grunted commands at his small crew. The group of only eight men running his ship for him didn't seem to suspect that anything was different with him, but he had a foreboding feeling that it would only be a manner of time before that changed. They weren't so stupid that they didn't take Jack's companions-none of which were prisoners-into consideration. He had been able to get rid of three of his thankfully limited crew at Port Royal already with the excuse that their presence wasn't needed now that he had Will, Elizabeth and Norrington with them. If they had thought Elizabeth unfit or unable to live the life of a pirate, a harsh glare from Jack doing his best Lorelac impression kept their tongues in their mouths. It hadn't been quite that easy, but there hadn't been too many problems with their departure. That might have been different if it hadn't been for Norrington's unfortunate…_misfortune._ Not for the first time since this journey had begun he thanked god that Norrington hadn't worn his uniform. That would have created more problems than he could deal with right now. _Speak of the devil and he appears…_Jack mused so himself as his eyes caught sight of Norrington striding toward him.

"You're the one leading this adventure, Norrington. How far you suppose we are from this little island of yours?" Jack drawled, putting as much casualness into his voice as he could manage while trying to fight off the thought that they were returning to _that_ island. The island where this whole bloody nightmare had begun: Lorelac's island. While yes, their departure from Port Royal had gone relatively smoothly, Jack had no bleeding idea what was going to happen to his crew once they got to that island.

"No more than a day, I suppose," Norrington answered with a soft sigh, turning his back on Jack and looking out to sea. "It's really not that far from Port Royal. It's a wonder it hasn't been discovered yet." He rapped on the wooden railing he was leaning against with his knuckles lightly.

"Never knew you to be a superstitious man, Norrington," Jack commented with an almost smile as he watched Norrington's actions.

"After the things I've seen I've learned to hedge my—" Norrington cut himself off as he turned and took a good look at Jack. "I see you've gotten your appurtenances back," Norrington murmured, taking in Jack's once more beaded hair and khol-blacked eyes. For all intents and purposes, he was himself-Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl-again and it inexplicably warmed Norrington's heart to see it.

Jack fingered the beads he had strung in his free-flowing hair once more, seeking comfort in their presence. "I found the whole lot in a drawer in my cabin. Looks like Lorelac couldn't get rid of them. The beard will take awhile though," he mused to himself, running a hand across his stubbly chin. "Maybe I'll just keep it shaved from now on."

"It suits you. It makes you look younger," Norrington said with a nod toward Jack's near clean-shaven face.

"Not really the look I was going for, mate. But thanks," Jack murmured with a small bow of thanks in Norrington's direction. It was mind-boggling how much the former Commodore had changed from their first encounter. It was almost as if he were an entirely different person. Had losing his job changed him that much? Or had he always been like this and Jack'd never noticed?

"And what look were you going for exactly, Sparrow? Because I'd say you've got the crazed, beaded, tattooed, sun-stuck pirate down pat," Norrington said with a glimmer of humour in his eyes.

"You forgot charming and debonair and sophisticated, mate," Jack said with a grin and would have curled his mustache had he still had a mustache to curl.

"My deepest apologies," Norrington responded with a bow of his own. "I also seem to have forgotten rum-soaked."

"Indeed. And don't you be forgetting it, savvy?" Jack responded with more cheer than he had felt of late, raising the half-full bottle of rum to Norrington in toast, about to bring it to his lips when he hesitated and offered it to the former military man who surprisingly enough, accepted.

Norrington took a liberal swallow from the bottle in a mixture of politeness at the offering and needing something to dull the pain of the various wounds he had suffered over the course of the last few days. His hand stung wretchedly in time with the beating of his heart, and his throat felt as if it had been lined in sandpaper even still. The rum burned on the way down, but it was a good kind of burn.

Jack just watched; more than a little dumbfounded, at Norrington's actions. He hadn't really believed he would accept the offered bottle of rum, especially from a pirate like himself, but after a moment's thought he asked himself why he was so surprised. It was just another instance of Norrington demonstrated that either he'd changed dramatically since Jack had known him, or that Jack hadn't really ever known him at all. In retrospect, the latter was most likely accurate.

"Thanks," Norrington said at last, handing the bottle back to Jack before taking a handkerchief out of a pocket almost as if by magic and wiping at his lips and chin. "I think I may have needed that."

"Any time, mate," Jack managed to say between bouts of sudden and liberating laughter, leaning on the wheel of the Pearl when he could no longer stand up straight from the force of it.

"You're spilling your rum," Norrington murmured, taking in the sight of Jack laughing himself to tears with his arms hanging limply at his sides and the bottle of rum tilted at a precarious angle in one of Jack's expressive hands; drops of rum escaping to the deck. Jack only seemed to find this even funnier. Norrington just stood by the hysterical pirate and watched, unable to keep a straight face in the midst of Jack's all encompassing mirth. No one would have been able to when confronted with such a sight, so Norrington didn't even bother trying.

When Jack's laughter had finally died off enough so that he could breathe properly again, he finally seemed to take in his surroundings and noticed that his antics had drawn quite a crowd. "Back to work, you worthless sea dogs!" he bellowed at the gathered members of his crew. This sent each of them running to do whatever they had been doing before their captain had decided to go insane.

"Better?" Norrington asked softly, a clearly bemused look on his face. He didn't quite know just what had happened with the pirate captain, but he couldn't help but notice the results. It was as if a terrible weight had been lifted from atop Jack's shoulders and finally laid to rest.

Jack seemed to take a moment to reflect, looking over at Norrington with dark eyes turned inward. For the briefest of instances-so quick Norrington wasn't even sure he had seen it-Jack's eyes shifted in that pale ice blue gaze, staring at him with such hate and loathing that Norrington took a step back. Then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone leaving Norrington confused and doubting his senses.

"Yes," Jack said at last. A soft spoken thank you accompanied his little bow this time. If Jack had been aware of what Norrington had just seen-or thought he saw-he gave no sign. He simply looked down at the near empty rum bottle in his hand, decided that there was still enough contained within to suit his purposes, and knocked it all back in one long swallow. "What are the people of your little island like, James?" Jack asked, tossing the rum bottle aside so that it rolled along the deck, taking note of it so that he could reclaim it later if it hadn't been lost to the sea by then.

A denial about how it wasn't 'his island' rose immediately to Norrington's lips but didn't get past them. For all intents and purposes, it was his island. It was the only thing he had left to him now. He was without position or rank, without home since he had lived on the grounds of the military barracks all his life in the house built specifically for him-_ for the ranking commodore-_and worst of all, without purpose to his life. But that wasn't entirely true, was it? He had purpose. He had an entire island to look after, the people of which relied on him to run their lives. The could certainly learn to live without him given sufficient time to adjust-they knew how to run their lives better than he ever could hope to-but could he live without them? Could he live without the structure and purpose his life so lacked right now? He was a man born and bred of the sea, raised to lead. And he had. Very well for many years. Not enough, not _nearly_ enough, but long enough to prove his worth to himself and to others. These people needed a leader, and he would lead them.

Then his thoughts turned the other direction. But what did leading these people mean? What did they need from him exactly? Was he being fair to them by not staying where they were? By not taking his rightful place in the hut they had assigned for him as their chief? _Huts and houses, assigned to men of rank. But which do I belong in? Neither of them? _The thing was, that while he could still seem himself in the house as the Commodore, such a position wasn't open to him anymore. It was gone, and he had to accept that. It was one thing to stop wearing the uniform and tell the others not to call him Commodore any longer, but he hadn't really accepted it. Not really. In his mind, it wouldn't be long now before Admiral Kleeson realised his mistake and called Norrington back. But Norrington also knew, without out a doubt, that that would never happen. Unless he re-enlisted as a common soldier-something he couldn't bring himself to do no matter how much he missed the military; he had fought to hard and too long to get where he was, or had been-the military life for him was irrevocably over.

But such a life could not be changed from one day to the next. He couldn't just go from Commodore to commoner as easily as that. The sensibilities remained. And yet, the sea called to him in a way it never had during all his years on it. It was the freedom that had been denied to him-or that he had denied himself-during those long years in the military. And he yearned for it. He yearned to know just how far the seemingly endless seas went. He wanted to feel the roll of a ship under his feet until the day he died. But where then, did that leave the island people under his charge?

"If you're going to be thinking as serious thoughts as I think you're thinking mate, then you'd best be thinking with some more rum I think," Jack's lazy drawl interrupted his thoughts. Norrington blinked at him, not understanding, still lost within his own thoughts. "C'mere. Take the wheel," Jack directed sternly, and Norrington couldn't help but move to follow the order. "Don't let her get away from you, or there'll be Hades to pay, mate," Jack directed once more before disappearing down the stairs and presumably somewhere below-perhaps his cabin but Norrington couldn't see-for a long while.

In all his long years as a sailor, this was perhaps the first, nay it _was_ the first time he had ever steered a ship by himself. He glanced around briefly, took note that there wasn't a single soul within close distance-he could see crew members on the deck and up amongst the sails, and Elizabeth's lonely form standing point at the bow like a figurehead-but for all it mattered, Norrington was completely alone. Completely alone, and steering a pirate ship. Not just any pirate ship in fact, but the Black Pearl. A thing surrounded by myths and legends, supposedly the fastest ship on the water. Turning the wheel slightly and feeling the ship eagerly respond to his every gesture, Norrington fervently believed every last one of those stories. It was a heady sensation, being in sole control of something so powerful as a ship, and Norrington had never felt its like, and never wanted to feel anything else ever again.

"You're not plannin' on takin' me ship now, are you James? Because truth be told, I've quite had enough of other people takin' my ship. It tends to wear on a man," Jack called out in an amused voice as he watched Norrington from the top of the stairs. "She treatin' you proper?"

"I-I never knew," Norrington managed to speak, his voice uncharacteristically rough and halting.

"No one does until they've had a chance to try it for themselves, mate," Jack said with a close-lipped smile as he sauntered over to Norrington. "And even then, no one will quite know the Pearl like you're knowing her right now. There have been others, that bastard former first mate of mine for one, and that bastard former demon of mine for another who have known her, but with them it was rape and with you it's love. Isn't that right? I can see it in your eyes. You're lost to her now, aren't you? Like me." Norrington didn't know what to say, and Jack seemed to understand this and handed him the full bottle of rum he had went down to fetch. Norrington took it reluctantly, not even wanting to move a single hand away from that incredible power, but he did and Jack raised another full bottle of his own up in a toast. "To the Black Pearl. May she never let us go." They toasted and drank, and something indefinable had changed-an unseen storm crackling in the air-leaving Norrington even more confused than before.

WWW

Elizabeth stared out into the ocean before her, not knowing what to think anymore. Her mind was a whirl of possibilities, questions, problems, but no solutions or answers. Placing a hand on her still-flat stomach, she tried to decide what to do. She couldn't tell Will about the baby, no, she couldn't do that, not now, maybe not ever. But why couldn't she? He was her fiancé. He would have been her husband by now if things had gone as they had originally planned. So why couldn't she tell him? She wasn't at fault in the matter; she hadn't cheated on him with Jack and accidentally gotten herself pregnant. She had been forced but yet she would not willingly give up a child from it. She couldn't. She would bear it because it was hers, and she would love it no matter how it had come to be conceived to prove to herself once and for all that she was no longer trouble by what had happened. It was selfish of her, but she figured she was entitled to a little selfishness in the midst of all that had happened. Was that why she didn't want to tell Will? Was she afraid that he might want her to give up the baby? That he would look at her differently as she bore another man's-his best friend even-son? These thoughts rang true within her, and yet not _entirely_ true. That was part of it, but not the whole reason. But what was it? What held her tongue at something so vitally important as being pregnant?

She didn't want to see how Will would look at her afterwards. She could imagine it-the look of loathing and disgust, as if she had been the one at fault; given herself up easily like a willing whore-and she couldn't bear it. _He'll take Jack's side. Because Jack is his friend and he never second guesses his friends. Not even for his wife_. She thought bitterly. _He won't care. He'll think it was my fault. That I wanted this. Well I didn't! I didn't!_ Tears began to flow down her cheeks now. _I didn't want it! God, I didn't want this! Any of it! _She would have buried her face in her hands as she leaned against the railing, but she wouldn't. She couldn't. She had to be strong. This was no time for crying and regrets. Not with everyone watching. Maybe there never would be a time. But that didn't matter. She would keep her secrets and grief bottled up inside where no one would ever touch them. They were hers, and she wasn't giving them up. She wasn't giving this child up.

But what about Jack? Where does he fit in with all of this? Is he going to want a son or daughter? _His_ son or daughter? Elizabeth didn't know that either. She didn't even know if the pirate captain liked children. How would he react? For some indefinable reason, she was less afraid of giving up her secret to him than she was to Will. _What does that mean? Do I still love Will?_ The thought threatened to send her to her knees. She didn't love Jack in Will's place, she never would, but why had she asked herself that question? How could she not love Will? He who had been a constant at her side since she was young. _But that doesn't matter. You've known James even longer and yet you've never loved him. Not the way he wanted you to._ Had she ever really loved any of them? The right answer didn't seem so apparent anymore.

WWW

Lorelac had known defeat before. He had been trapped inside that bloody crystal for longer than he cared to fathom and he had escaped when the opportunity had presented itself. He would wait, he would watch, and he would listen. That opportunity would come again.

WWW

Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean, pirate ship The Hangman's Knuckles, Captain Zachariah Kruler, 1674

Jack knew death. He had embraced it like a warm blanket all around him to keep him sane. The body of the officer he had killed had not been moved in over three days. Jack's minimal food and water was brought to him and set right in the middle space between the edge of Jack's cell door and the corpse so Jack would have to reach toward the corpse to get it. During the first day, just the smell of the food alone within sight of the fast rotting corpse was enough to make him lose whatever he had his stomach more than once. He quickly learned after this incident that whatever food he threw up would not be replaced. His captors would never take pity on their prisoner and bring him a second meal because Jack had become sick at the sight and the smell of…the man he killed. So Jack had learned to live with it. He had learned to embrace the sweet smell of decay so that it no longer bothered him. He might have been going a little mad by now-with good reason-but after a while it even began to smell sweet. Not good; _never _good, but bearable.

Life with the corpse brought unexpected benefits as well. Since the smell was so incredibly wretched, and no other crew member save the captain seemed to be able to bear it-they must not have had to go through the same "training" that Jack had-Jack pretty much had the entire brig to himself. Granted he couldn't leave his cell, but he found the peacefulness and aloneness nice. At least, he did at first.

Now while Jack wasn't normally a very garrulous man, he preferred time alone in quiet with his books, that didn't mean he didn't like to talk to people. He did. He liked to discuss the things he had read with people he knew-he denied himself the luxury of specific thoughts of his family now, he didn't deserve them-and he liked to hear them talk in return. No one had spoken a word to him in all three days. Not even Captain Kruler. They had left him in utter silence with the corpse who wasn't much for conversation. But that was alright. Jack could talk to himself. He had done it before and would do it again and again if it was necessary; to take comfort in the sound of your own voice. He asked himself questions and he thought up answers. He asked himself what he was going to do when-never if; always when-he was going to get out of this goddamned cell. He answered that he was going to kill every last man on this ship, leaving the captain for last. He didn't know what he would do after that so he didn't ask.

Jack moved to sit back in the corner of his cell, calling the questioning session on the count that it hurt to talk. His mouth still throbbed with the missing tooth, but it was nothing compared to the painful screaming of the salt-soaked lashes on his back. He cautiously reached a hand around his side to touch one of them gently, and he hissed in pain as he did so but found out what he had wanted to. The skin of his back was hot to touch like he had expected it to be. Fever then. _Maybe it'll just kill me and this hell will finally be ended. _That idea would appeal to him if he let it. He did. What was left to him but death? He had nothing left, not even his name. He would be _Little Sparrow_ until the day he died. He could only hope that day would come for him soon.

WWW

"Have you ever thought of changing your name back to Sperling now, Jack?" Norrington interrupted gently. "There's no need to keep the name if it brings with it…unpleasant memories."

"Jack Sparrow is who I am. That other man is gone. Dead. He was killed on that ship," Jack said without pause, conviction in his words.

Norrington simply nodded, not daring to comment on that right now and waited for Jack to speak again.

"When they finally let me out, about 5 days to my best recollection from when I killed that man, I wasn't the same."

WWW

Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean, pirate ship The Hangman's Knuckles, Captain Zachariah Kruler, 1674

When Captain Kruler came to let him out of the cell in which he had come to believe as home, he was surprised. The surprise must have shown on his face, because Kruler chuckled; a disturbingly kind sound.

"You've learned your lesson, I know you have. And if you haven't, there are easy enough solutions for that, aren't they my little sparrow?"

Jack nodded dully from the floor of his cell, not having the energy to get up. The fever had raged in him for two days and yet no one had done anything for him. The ship had a surgeon, Xavier had made mention of him, but Jack had seen nothing of the man since he had been down here. He could imagine what he looked like: his face pale and his eyes dull but lit with a feverish light. He could feel himself shaking from the strain of it.

"What doesn't kill us, makes us stronger little sparrow," Kruler commented with a small smile, offering a hand down to Jack to bring him to his feet. Jack grabbed it without hesitation-hesitation would lead to punishment-and made it to his feet. The room spun, black spots danced before his eyes and blood rushed past his ears, but with Kruler's calloused hand gripping his arm tightly, Jack had no choice but to keep his feet. "Come with me, little sparrow. We'll get you cleaned up. You're mine now, and I take care of what's mine." The casual admission of possession made Jack's fever heated blood run cold at the implications.

"Yours?" Jack croaked out, unable to stop himself. Kruler only gave a grin in return, and Jack shivered.

WWW

Will paced back and forth in his cabin, his mind flitting from one thought to another with the speed of a hummingbird. He was still quite furious at Norrington but it was an impotent rage. And in his soul, Will knew Norrington was probably right. It was ironic that Norrington's comment from that long ago time seemed to make sudden glaring sense. It hadn't then, and Will and Elizabeth had been right to argue it. _You forget your place_. He had. Not in the fact that he tried to be something he wasn't, but that he no longer knew where his place was any longer. _Blacksmith or pirate?__ Pirate or blacksmith? Husband or friend? Neither? Both? _His thoughts had been running in a similar vein ever since Norrington had left; damn him. He no longer knew his place. Things that had once seemed so clear and defined before only confused him now.

_Is __Elizabeth__ even going to talk to me about it?_ The thought that she wouldn't have even told him about what had happened to her on the island with Jack-_not Jack, never Jack.__ He didn't do it. But he didn't stop it either_-still hurt him. It was as if she couldn't trust him to tell him anything. What did that say about their future life together? If she couldn't trust him enough to tell him these kinds of things, or _anything_ for that matter, how then was he going to be able to trust her in return? Lies and mistrust were no foundation for a successful marriage in the eyes of God.

_Norrington knows her better than I do. _The thought came to him unbidden and unwanted, leaving him shaken. But that was unfair too. Norrington had known her longer than Will had. He had been a friend of her family before Will had ever floated up to the side of her ship on that long voyage from England to Port Royal. Will didn't blame him for loving her either. He might have at one point, but no longer now. Elizabeth was a vibrant, beautiful woman and you couldn't help not loving her. She was generous but at the same time she took what she wanted with a kind of ruthlessness that startled Will at times. He could tell she didn't want to be bound to Port Royal for the rest of her life. She had a spirit that would refuse all attempts to bind it. She wanted to explore unknown lands, accomplish unheard of deeds…everything Will himself did not want to do. He was happy in Port Royal. He liked having ties to something; a home. While adventure did call to his soul, he didn't feel the same longing to answer it as Elizabeth did and a deep part of him-the part that insisted that his father wasn't and never would be anything more than a merchant sailor-even rebelled against it.

WWW

Lorelac watched the ship's occupants with dispassionate disgust. _Look at them. Lost in their pathetic little lives, believing that what they say and do really matters when they're nothing more than ants in the scope of it all. _Lorelac sneered and began pacing back and forth in the confines of the crystal. He was aware of all but could affect nothing but his keeper, and Jack's will was too strong now for that to happen. But it didn't matter. No one could keep control of himself all the time, not even bloody Captain Jack Sparrow himself. And while Jack didn't know this, after you had been possessed the firs time it became ever so much easier to take over the second time. Lorelac had grown to know Jack's mind inside and out, and he held all the keys to whatever pathetic locks Jack threw up to bar his path. He just had to be patient and the opportune moment would present itself like it had in that cave. And Lorelac could be patient. He could wait for years if need be.

After a moment's thought and hesitation, he didn't think it would be that long though. Not with the delightful turns Jack's mind seemed to be taking as he thought about whatever he was telling that pathetic former commodore. He was remembering something grim and ugly that appealed to Lorelac immensely. He couldn't see what it was that Jack was thinking about, but he could see the effects it caused and knew that his moment was coming ever nearer. He could practically see the waves of darkness and hate emanating from Jack as he spoke of someone named….Kruler. Lorelac thought he might like to meet this man if he still breathed on this earth. A kindred spirit for mischief and destruction, from the sound of it.

Well, whoever the man was, Lorelac could tell that he had influenced a few great changes on Sparrow; changes Lorelac could use to his advantage. _I have used those changes to my advantage!_ Lorelac thought suddenly._ That's why it was so easy to change Sparrow before!_ Lorelac had often wondered where the darkness that Jack held deep within his soul-darkness that Lorelac had brought to the surface and used to turn him into the man he had been during that glorious month-and now he knew. The darkness hadn't come from him, Lorelac admitted to himself with an irritated scowl. It had been pure and black and sweet and Lorelac had drunk it in as if it were clear, cool water placed before a man dying of thirst. Sparrow had evil within his soul, and now Lorelac knew where it had come from. Now, if only he could get Sparrow to let it out again….

TBC

A/N: Well, that's was fun! Don't hate me, but I must admit I almost liked writing Lorelac. Almost. And to write Lorelac and Kruler in the same chapter…well, that was just fun. The next chapter gets a little…ok a _lot_ dark, so be forewarned. But of course, you all know that I'm evil, so what comes next should present no surprises. ;-)

Reviewer Response Time!

Ellennar: Yes, Norry tattooed. I'll admit, the image does leave me rolling around the floor laughing so hard that I can't hardly breathe. ;-) Thanks for the toast, sorry I couldn't get another one this time. Bad author!

Holliday1081: The flashbacks are going to get harder to read, I fear. Past Jack will become even further removed from Edward, and even Present Jack for that matter, as time goes on. I hope you liked the Jack and James scenes in this chapter too. They were fun to write.

Bules: He'll get a lot more mad (madder?) in the chapters to come, don't fret. ;-) Lorelac's ugly head is poked out and looking around now, and yes the tattoo will come into play soon.

The Phantom's Christine: This is easier to type. I like the name! Hope you liked the chapter!

Opranoodlemantra: Our little foursome is in for some hard times, I'm afraid. Don't ask me what's going to happen between Will and Liz especially, because I honestly have no idea. Island time will be next chapter and then things will get…interesting.

FalconWing: You'll notice the crew didn't really react at all. This is because they're all scared out of their minds of Jack. They don't know he's not still "Lorelac-ified" to them he's just being odd. Something they've seen a lot. Hope you weren't too disappointed though.

Mistress of Destruction: It's ok about the reviewing. It happens, so no worries mate. Thanks for this one! And the flashbacks will get even more different than what most people think about Jack's past soon….

Areanas: Thanks so much for betaing!!!! The fantasmic angst as you put it, will come to play in the next chapter in horrible doses. Don't you worry. }D No Norry abuse this chapter. No promises for the next though… Lol, yes Kruler is a nasty pastry. ;-)

Padme17: Thanks for the review! I'm glad you're loving it!

Neon Daises: Yeah, Kruler's evil. And he's a long way from being through with your little bookworm yet. :-( They'll be at the island next chapter, and who said anything about the villagers being peaceful? })

BlueTrinity: Yes, poor Jack. Heck, poor everyone at this point! Except for Lorelac and Kruler. They don't deserve it. I included Lorelac again just for you. Hope you enjoyed him. Hmm, I'm a ways off from 'happily ever after's,' but as soon as I reach that point you'll be the first to know! ;-) Thanks for the review.

I appreciate you all immensely. Without you, this story wouldn't be nearly as much fun to write. :-D Thanks again!

-Merrie


	9. Chapter 8: Tattoos and Torture

A Gilded Cage: Sequel to Broken Wings, Part II of the Fallen Sparrows Trilogy

A Pirates of the Caribbean story by Merrie

Disclaimer: Jack, Norry, Will, Liz, Kruler, Lorelac and all others own me. I would never attempt to claim otherwise.

Summary: Lorelac is seemingly gone, Jack remains as one of the most wanted men in the known world, Elizabeth's still pregnant, Will still doesn't know, Norrington's still without a job, and Jack's still got more of his grisly past to share.

Characters: Captain Jack Sparrow, Chief James Norrington, Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann, Captain Zachariah Kruler, Lorelac and various others.

Author's Note: Well I warned you last chapter that this one was going to be a bit on the dark side, and it turned out I was right. I hope you still like it though.

Rating: R for violence and language.

Chapter 8: Tattoos and Torture

Lorelac couldn't understand it. What should have been getting easier was getting indefinably harder the closer and closer Jack moved to the godforsaken little island he was currently heading to. Lorelac should have been getting closer to taking over again and yet that kind of control had never seemed more far away than it did now.

_I was winning! I was beating him! What in the bloody hell is going on?! It can't end like this! I won't let it! I've fought too long and hard to give up so easily_. Lorelac thought with determined hate. _The island.__ It has to have something to do with this godforsaken island. But what? How dare they stand against me! I will make every last one of them beg for death. Starting with that interfering, pathetic former commodore._ _It was his fault that Jack was here. His bloody island. I'll figure out what is going on and my time will come. _

WWW

"Jack? Are you alright?" Norrington asked softly upon seeing a blank look cross Jack's face.

"What? Oh. I'm fine," Jack said with a slight shake of his head to clear his thoughts that made his newly re-attached beads clank together. "Don't worry about me, mate. Worry about how you…people are going to react when they see all of us," Jack murmured as he rowed the small boat towards Norrington's island. "Did I ever tell you that I have an island of people somewhere out there myself? Or that, I did?"

"You? A chief? I'm not sure I believe it," Norrington said with a raised eyebrow.

Jack gave him a look. "And the fact that a military commodore is one is easier to believe?"

Norrington inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Former commodore," he said with a sigh. "I'm not in the military anymore."

"Who'd they get to replace you?" Will spoke up suddenly.

"Gillette," Norrington muttered. "I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. That little worm has always been out for my job."

"Was he the one who didn't believe we'd make it out of the bay with only two men?" Jack asked Will with a curious look.

Will nodded. "He didn't know we were planning on stealing the Interceptor instead." He shrugged.

"I must admit, that was a clever strategy on your part, Sparrow," Norrington said with a hint of the past grudge they had carried between them clear in his voice.

Jack inclined his head to Norrington in brief thanks for the admitted compliment. "Aye, but the whelp-" Jack gave Will a small smile at that. "-and I were in a desperate situation. His bonny lass," he gave Elizabeth a nod this time, "was in trouble and he wasn't going to let her go without trying to rescue her."

"Indeed," Norrington said as the small lifeboat ran up on shore. "Well, since I'm not on the side to fall for such a trick a second time, I guess I shouldn't worry about the last time," he said with a shrug as he got out of the boat and offered a hand to Elizabeth who got out of the boat with more grace and poise than any of the men could claim.

"I've got my own ship now, mate. I don't need to commandeer another one," Jack said as he moved out of the boat himself with his unique stumbling grace.

"Is commandeer really a nautical term, James? Not that I don't trust Jack at his word, I've just always wondered."

Norrington nodded after a moment's hesitation. "It means to seize property for military or governmental use."

"Or to take forcibly," Elizabeth added in a soft voice. "That's the colloquial definition."

At that, the three men, Jack especially grew very still and silent. It seemed as if commandeer could be synonymous with rape under the right circumstances. Elizabeth didn't acknowledge any of them, merely turning to Norrington after a few moments of incredibly uncomfortable silence and asking him to lead the way through the thick trees back to the-_his_-village. Norrington did so, and Elizabeth held her head up proudly as she walked as Jack's was tilted down to his feet.

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Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean, pirate ship The Hangman's Knuckles, Captain Zachariah Kruler, 1674

Jack was slumped to the deck as much as he was able with his arms bound above his head and attached by a rope to a metal hook and immediately attempted to curl in on himself, trying to save his beaten and bloodied body from further punishment. His ribs were aching, his back was striped raw and slippery with blood and if another blow landed on his abused kidneys he thought he would scream. Again.

"Little Sparrow, why do you insist on doing this to yourself?" Kruler asked as he clicked his tongue at Jack as if scolding a disobedient dog. "This is your home. You don't try and run away from your home. Why would you ever want to leave us, Little Sparrow? Your wings have been clipped. Don't make me break them." He ran the cat o' tails he had been using in an almost fond nuzzling manner across Jack's back, causing Jack to let out an involuntary moan at the fear of further punishment.

"Don't. Please," Jack whispered pitifully, closing his eyes and trying to imagine himself somewhere else. It didn't seem to be working as every time he breathed he was reminded of his bruised ribs that had made contact with Kruler's boots earlier. Not to mention that the entire span of his back felt like it was on fire. The funny thing about all of this was-if anything about torture could be called funny-was that he could no longer remember what he had done to deserve such punishment.

"Don't? Please? Would you like me to stop, little sparrow?" Kruler asked, halting the movement of his hand and the whip.

A part of Jack's brain that wasn't yet clouded by pain warned him that this was probably a trick of some kind; that any wrong answer would only earn him more punishment, but he didn't care. He only wanted it to end. "Yes. Please. Stop," he moaned. "I'm sorry," he added as an afterthought, hoping that it would make some kind of difference in Kruler's mind.

It didn't, causing a snort of derision to go through Kruler rather than pity and consideration, but he did not yet continue beating Jack. "What are you sorry for, little sparrow? Why am I beating you like this?"

"Because I deserve it," Jack answered without hesitation. "I did something wrong."

"Correct," Kruler said, sounding pleased with Jack's answer. "What did you do wrong?"

"I…" Jack searched for an answer, and came up empty.

"You don't know, do you?" Kruler supplied for him.

"No," Jack moaned, trying desperately to escape from his confinement. "I'm sorry. I won't do it ever again. Just please don't hurt me anymore. Please," he pleaded with him. "Tell me what I did. Help me make it right. I'm sorry. Did I try to leave?" He honestly couldn't remember if he had or not. "I won't ever try again. This ship is my home. My only home. There are no others. There is no one else for me."

"That's right, little sparrow. This ship is the only home you've ever known or will ever know. There never was any other. Who am I, Jack?" Kruler asked, stroking the whip in an almost fond manner as he directed his obsidian eye toward Jack's lacerated back.

"Captain. Mentor. Teacher. Father," Jack answered.

"That's right. I am. And what have I taught you?"

"To kill."

"What else?" he asked with the evil smile of a man who had his captive just where he wanted him.

"To pillage. Rape. Steal. A pirate's life. I am a pirate."

"And what is your name?" he asked, tensing the whip again should Jack make a wrong answer. Jack didn't.

"Little sparrow. It's my only name until I'm given another," Jack said in even and dull tones as if reading the answer from a piece of parchment.

"And who is Edward? Edward John Corintin Alexandre Sperling?" Kruler asked in a casual tone.

"Edward?" Jack asked with a confused frown. The name sounded horribly familiar, like he should know it well, but when he tried to think about who the person was, he was forcibly reminded of how wrong answers were treated by a lancing wave of pain from his bloodied back. "I…don't know. I'm sorry. Please. I don't know. Don't hurt me, please. Tell me who he is and I won't forget again. I swear it," Jack pleaded; trying not to tense painfully in preparation for the blow he knew would be coming. No such blow came.

"Don't worry, little sparrow. Edward is dead. You won't have to remember him any longer."

Jack let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you," he said honestly.

"You're welcome, little sparrow. You have made me proud. I think this deserves a celebration."

"A celebration?" Jack asked curiously, trying to keep the wariness out of his voice.

"Yes. You belong to us now. It's only right that we mark the occasion," Kruler said in jovial tones, clearly pleased with Jack's answers, but making no moves to cut Jack down. This worried Jack immensely. Kruler just smiled and called up a few crewmembers over to help start the celebrations.

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"Welcome back to Wuinakexa, my Chief and honoured guests," Kiquan said with a deep bow as the quartet walked up the beach to the edge of the nearest village. Kiquan had intercepted them as if he had been waiting for their arrival all alone. He just might have been. While no one had said a word concerning Jack or Elizabeth's arrival-Kiquan having met Will before-there could be only one conclusion to make of people traveling with and that was that they were friends of their chief.

"This is Miss Elizabeth Swann and Captain Jack Sparrow," Norrington addressed each of them in turn. "You've already met Mr. Turner on our last visit."

"Of course," Kiquan said, nodding his bald head a few times, causing the half-lens glasses perched on his nose to wobble a bit. He turned to Elizabeth and drew up one of her hands and kissed her knuckles lightly, giving her every indication that he was a perfect gentleman back at home were it not for the shaved head, pierced nose and ears, and the elaborate tattoos covering his shockingly bare chest. "You are to Will's woman, is that correct?" he asked, releasing her hand back to her side gently. "He had much worry for you while he was here, but he did not doubt that you were still alive. He will be a good match for you," Kiquan said with a smile that Elizabeth did her best to match.

"Thank you," Elizabeth said in a soft voice. "Kiquan, was it?"

"I am honored that such a woman as yourself would deign to remember," Kiquan said with a smile and another bow before lifting his head and giving her a pointed look. "You must come have a talk with me soon, Miss Swann," he said slowly, but turned to address Jack before Elizabeth could ask what he had meant by that.

When he turned to Jack, his hand went to a knife he had tied at his waist, but he did not draw it in deference to his chief. "You are truly Captain Sparrow? Of the Black Pearl?" he asked in an almost cautious manner, clearly waiting for Jack's answer.

"I am now. I wasn't before," Jack answered, keeping his dark eyes locked on Kiquan's equally dark ones.

"Your ship has massacred many people with you at the head."

"Yes it has," Jack said without hesitation, raising a hand to stop the argument Will had been about to make on his behalf without taking his eyes away from Kiquan. "And yes, I was leading them. And yet, I wasn't."

"What do you mean?" Kiquan asked with a confused frown. "How could you have led your men on to do those things and yet say that you did not? It cannot be both, Sparrow."

"He was possessed, Kiquan. It wasn't his fault," Norrington spoke up before Jack could.

Instead of Kiquan being reassured by this as Norrington had hoped by speaking the truth, Kiquan took a step backwards from Jack as if he were afraid of him. "Possessed by whom?"

"Lorelac," Jack said causing Kiquan to shudder and let out a moan.

"We do not speak his name. It is forbidden," Kiquan moaned to him. "You will bring him down upon us!"

This was not quite the reaction any of them had been expecting.

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Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean, pirate ship The Hangman's Knuckles, Captain Zachariah Kruler, 1674

Pain. Jack had thought he was done with it after answering Kruler's questions correctly, but apparently he had been wrong. Horribly wrong. He would have screamed, but someone had forced a rolled up piece of cloth into his mouth so that his screams came out muffled moans.

"Shh, little sparrow. It will be over soon and then you will truly belong to us," Kruler said in a curiously comforting manner as he stood over Jack's left shoulder as not get in the way of the pirate that worked on Jack's right arm.

"What are you doing to me?" Jack moaned through the cloth, but Kruler understood him.

"Marking you as ours," he answered evenly; glancing over Jack's body to the pirate tattooist he had working on the etching of a little sparrow in flight in front of a large setting sun over waves on Jack's right forearm. "It'll be over soon and then you'll be ours forever. Don't you want that?"

Jack tried not to thrash about as the pirate's needle dug biting lines across his skin, not that he was really able to with the burly pirate holding him still around the stomach; a small kindness from Kruler who had positioned him there rather than around Jack's torn back. "Yes," he managed finally, willing the black spots out of his vision. Passing out now while Kruler was talking to him would only earn him another beating later. Kruler did not look fondly upon weakness.

"Good. Because after this, you will be," Kruler whispered into Jack's ear in a low voice that would have made Jack shiver had he thought he could bear the pain such an action would bring. Jack just tried to focus on something else than the pain, which wasn't really all that bad when compared to the ills he had already suffered. He let his head slump forward as much as he could without leaning it on the pirate's shoulder in front of him, and focused his attention on the waves. He could hear the ship cutting through them sleekly and yet not. The ship did not part the waves, the waves parted for the ship. The sea could not be contained. This Jack had known for as long as he could remember. That remembrance was not long at the moment, granted, but it was long enough. The sea was wild and free in ways he could never be. She would never be contained, and only show her love to those who were faithful to her. Jack vowed to be faithful for as long as he was allowed to sail in her waters.

Jack simply listened to the sea, to her voice, and after what had seemed like hours and probably was, he was finally released to fall to the deck with a gentleness that surprised him. Then, Kruler was helping him to his feet and walking him to the ship's barber to have his back and fresh tattoo looked at and worked on if need be. Jack didn't care any more as he laid face down on the barber's examining table with his left arm tucked at his side and his right outstretched as it had been for it hurt to stretch the skin of his newly tattooed forearm with unnecessary movement.

"Stitch him up, cover his arm and send him back to me when you're through." Kruler's voice intruded in on Jack's consciousness, demanding that it be paid attention. Jack tried his best. "Give him whatever you have to dull the pain. He's one of us now and deserves proper treatment."

"Yes, sir," the surgeon-barber said and might have nodded in Captain Kruler's direction, but Jack didn't lift his head to look and make sure.

"Get some rest, my little sparrow. You have new lessons to learn tomorrow." Without waiting for the answer that Jack wasn't fit to give anyway, Kruler turned and left the surgeon to his work.

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"Do you bear his mark as we do?" Kiquan asked in a wavering voice as he took yet another step away from Jack.

At first Jack didn't know what Kiquan referred to then nodded, rolling up his left sleeve to bear the intricate tattoo that went all the way from his ring and middle fingers to his collar bone. "There used to be more but it went away when he did," Jack informed him as Kiquan stared at the tattoo, following the intertwining lines with his eyes.

"My people have born his mark for generations. Our children are born covered in the lines that remind us of his presence here," Kiquan said solemnly.

"Your children are born tattooed?" Will asked with an incredulous frown.

"Not tattooed. I know this word, I have seen tattoos before, like that on Captain Sparrow's other arm," Kiquan gestured to the sparrow tattoo, causing Jack to wince slightly as he was reminded again of when and where he had gotten it; something he had never shared with anyone before. Almost everyone knew he had it, he was one of his most defining characteristics, but few knew just where it had come from.

Norrington caught Jack's wince but didn't comment on it. "If they're not tattoos, then what are they, Kiquan?"

"A reminder of his presence so that we will never forget who we are," Kiquan said solemnly.

"And what is that?" Elizabeth asked softly.

"His children."

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Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean, pirate ship The Hangman's Knuckles, Captain Zachariah Kruler, 1674

"What is the one rule I have taught you when dealing with survivors or prisoners, Sparrow?" Kruler asked, following behind Jack as they surveyed the bound and gagged French prisoners together. Their ship had almost been too easy to take, resulting in a disappointingly short battle and a wealth of survivors that they had to deal with now.

"That there should be none," Jack answered scanning the gathered group clearly frightened men with pitiless eyes.

"That is correct. We take no prisoners. Why is that, Sparrow?"

"Anyone who goes up against us and loses does not deserve the right to live. They are weak and foolish. They are of no further use to this world." Jack meant every word and Kruler saw this and was pleased.

"Correct. Then what are we going to do with these, prisoners, Sparrow?"

"Kill them all save one," Jack answered coldly.

"Why save one?" Kruler asked curiously. He hadn't taught Jack this particular lesson. He was of a mind to leave no survivors.

"So that he spreads the stories about us. So that men are taught to fear us as they should."

A true smile made its way to Kruler's face, and it was a grim thing. "Well done, lad. Kill them. Kill them all save your one." At the pronunciation of this, the prisoners within hearing distance began to struggle and plead for mercy through their gags. Jack and Captain Kruler ignored them.

"Slowly or quickly?" Jack asked, drawing his sword.

"I'll leave that up to you, Sparrow," Kruler said with a smile, curious to see what Jack's response would be. He was beyond pleased a few minutes later to see that Jack had chosen to kill them slowly, drawing out his victims' suffering for as long as he could. His little protégé might even outshine him one day if he kept this up.

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_What? My children? That doesn't make any sense. I've never even been to this godforsaken island before. And I didn't leave the mark…did I? _Lorelac wasn't so sure anymore. He had claimed it was his at first, but he had been bluffing. At least, he _thought_ had had been bluffing. Had he been remembering something then that he had long since forgotten? He didn't know. He only knew that something or someone on this island prevented his actions. And what was worse, he could sense that somehow he wouldn't be able to possess any of the inhabitants of this island even if they had his crystal. This disturbed him immensely because he didn't know what it meant. He didn't like not knowing.

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"What do you mean, you're _his children?_" Jack asked with a worried frown.

"When he walked the earth as you did, many many years ago, he laid with many of the women of my village. Their children had the mark as he did, and it has been so ever since. Every person on the island with the mark can trace their generations back to one of these women. It has been so ever since."

"So…that means that since I have the mark, if I had any children they would too?" Jack asked with a frown, not noticing that Elizabeth's face had paled dramatically. None of them did, they were so focused on what Kiquan would say next.

"That is correct. Your children would become like us. Brothers and sisters to us. Children of him," Kiquan said softly, still not saying Lorelac's name.

"Guess it's a bloody good thing I won't be having a flock of my own any time soon then," Jack murmured, trying to make light of the situation although his voice sounded more disappointed than his words let on.

Elizabeth let out a soft moan as she paled again this time, praying that she wouldn't faint. Unfortunately, the men and Kiquan couldn't help but notice this time.

"Elizabeth? What is it? What's wrong?" the three men asked on top of each other, Will going to her side while Norrington and Jack stood by and watched with anxious faces.

"It's nothing, I'm fine. I fear I may have been out in the sun a little too long, that's all," Elizabeth said, forcing herself to sound casual. Will didn't seem to fully believe her, but wasn't about to argue.

"Alright, we'll get you inside and sitting down. It is rather hot out here at the moment," he said, looking up at the sun as he said it, but not seeing it as they were in complete shade of the trees. This added even less credence to Elizabeth's excuse, but it wasn't his place to doubt her.

She nodded and dutifully did not look at Jack. Not even once. Norrington noticed this and frowned, as did Jack, but for different reasons. Jack thought that she was still upset with him-and rightfully so-and therefore didn't question her action. Norrington on the other hand saw something different in her reluctance to look at the pirate captain given what they had just been speaking about, but wouldn't have asked her about it for all the tea in the Orient. It simply wasn't his place to ask such things. She would tell whom she wanted when she wanted. That was her prerogative as a woman.

"I think it's time we had our talk, Miss Swann. Please come with me. I have a place where you can sit down," Kiquan said softly, directing a hand in the direction of the village.

Elizabeth just nodded and followed where he led her, her three…escorts trailing closely behind with Will close at her side should she faint, Norrington behind her for much the same reason, and Jack bringing up the rear as far away from her as he could walk without lagging behind them because that was where he belonged.

TBC

A/N: Will this was a fun chapter. I'm a million times sorry for the length it took to post. Please forgive me. More angst coming soon when the boys figure out just why Elizabeth is acting so strangely. Until then, thanks for reading, and please send me your reviews!!!

Reviewer Responses

Jackfan2: Life certainly does grab you by the short and curlies sometimes as evident with the length of time between posting the last chapter and this one. Something I am very very sorry for. I have absolutely no idea what's going on with Jack and Elizabeth, or Elizabeth and Will, or Norrington and Jack, or Will and Norrington…or with anyone for that matter. They constantly surprise me with every chapter. I swear they have their own agendas now. :-D I will take your comment about how my mind is sick and twisted as a high compliment indeed. Thanks!

Holliday1081: Pirate Norry? Would I do something like that? –tries to look innocent- He really does get under your skin. Save Jack, he is my favorite character to write. We'll just have to see where he takes us next.

OpraNoodlemantra: I am very glad I'm making you into a Norry fan. Embrace the Norryluv! He is a wonderfully complicated character who I love to write. And I think the similarities between him and Jack-at least, the ones I seem to be creating-are incredibly fun to delve into. There will be much more of that in the near future. I hope you liked the darkness in this chapter. Past Jack-little sparrow-is going somewhere I hadn't necessarily intended. He is growing very dark indeed under Kruler's tutelage.

Arenas: Hmm, evil breakfast confection dude might pay…someday. Um, maybe. We'll see. :-P Right now he's just causing past Jack grief.

The Phantom's Christine: I try my best to represent each character as equally as I can, while still giving Jack the props he deserves. ;-) And I love writing all of the other characters too. Their stories can be-and are-just as complicated as Jack's are.

FalconWing: -hides head in shame- I guess I wasn't so inescapably clear. Sorry about that. Really really sorry about that. I do hope you and all of my other readers will forgive me. I really am very sorry about the wait.

BlueTrinity: Kruler is just plain evil, no doubt about that. He's moulding young Jack into someone I don't like nor anticipated. It'll be interesting to see what happens next because honestly, I have absolutely no idea. :-P

Mistress of Destruction: I'm sorry you found the last chapter boring, but I don't hold it against you. It was a lot of exposition into the characters that needed to be said but wasn't necessarily fun to read. Or write for that matter. I hope you found this chapter more to your liking.

Brave Symbol: Sorry I'm late, SS!! Bad author! I truly loved writing the scene between Jack and Norry too. It was a lot of fun. I hope you liked this chapter!!

Again, thank you to all of my reviewers. You guys are the best! –Drinks all around-

-Merrie


	10. Chapter 9: Telling Secrets and Taking Si...

A Gilded Cage: Sequel to Broken Wings, Part II of the Fallen Sparrows Trilogy

A Pirates of the Caribbean story by Merrie

Disclaimer: Jack, Norry, Will, Liz, Kruler, Lorelac and all others own me. I would never attempt to claim otherwise.

Summary: Lorelac is seemingly gone, Jack remains as one of the most wanted men in the known world, Elizabeth's still pregnant, Will still doesn't know, Norrington's still without a job, and Jack's still got more of his grisly past to share.

Characters: Captain Jack Sparrow, Chief James Norrington, Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann, Captain Zachariah Kruler, Lorelac and various others.

Author's Note: Sorry this took so long to post. It's been a long few weeks. WARNING, CHARACTER DEATH!!!!

Rating: R for violence and language. AND A CHARACTER DEATH!!!

Chapter 9: Telling Secrets and Taking Sides

Off the west coast of Africa, in the pirate ship The Hangman's Knuckles, Captain Zachariah Kruler, 1675

Jack stared at his forearm with the sparrow over water tattoo thoughtfully, as if wondering how it had gotten there. Oh he remembered when he had gotten it alright, it had been his rebirth. How could someone forget something as important as that? But yet, he had forgotten things. He could no longer remember the before. He could remember the now and he could remember the not long ago then, but not the before. He couldn't remember his mother's voice or his father's face. Was Kruler his father? If so, then why didn't he remember it ever having been so before? It didn't matter. The before didn't matter. He raised his gaze out to sea and was calmed. This was his home; the only one he had ever known or ever would know. And he was happy with that. He was at peace. He knew where his place was. His place was at Captain Kruler's side now. Killing beside him. Making men fear them all. And yet, he had his own ambitions. His own dreams. He would make men fear the name of Sparrow if he had to kill the whole world to do it.

Jack heard Xavier's softly ringing approach and therefore didn't need to turn to look at him. "What do you want?" he asked evenly. He had taken a dislike for the pirate almost immediately. He was far too soft; too weak to be of any real use to him.

"The Captain wants to see you in his cabin," Xavier said with a frown, looking over the young man he had helped to kidnap and turn into a murderer. Something-if he was being honest with himself, it was probably guilt-didn't sit well in the pit of his stomach every time he spoke to _little sparrow_. How could one man have changed so much in such a short amount of time? He truly hadn't been onboard that long, had he? Xavier was fairly sure he hadn't. And yet, the young man sitting before him and the younger man they had taken from the ship they had destroyed were incomparable. It was like looking at two different people who just happened to share some of the same features. He didn't even sound as he had back then. The smooth tones of his cultured British accent were gone, replaced by a pirate's halting dialect. When had that happened? He didn't know. The only thing he did know what that sparrow was turning into something the likes of which none of them had ever dreamed about. Not even their captain.

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"You wanted to speak to me, Captain?" Jack asked, standing in front of Kruler's large mahogany desk. He had a sneaking suspicion that the ship was built around the desk rather than the desk being added later. It was far too heavy and unwieldy to move easily.

Kruler looked up from his desk, his obsidian black eye seeming to wink in the candle light. He laid down what he was doing and rose from his seat so that Jack wouldn't have to look down on him. It was a courtesy he would not have given him a year ago. He remembered when Jack had come aboard the ship. He had kept them all guessing from one moment to the next by constantly leading them to believe he was just about to give up and die and then turning around and showing incredible fortitude and ruthlessness. And the man he had become today…it was all beyond measurement. He had far surpassed any of Kruler's dreams for him and had become as ruthless as any a pirate that sailed these waters. It made him proud.

"Captain?" Jack asked gently, interrupting Kruler's wandering train of thought.

Kruler smiled at him and Jack frowned. He couldn't remember a time when the Captain had smiled like that. Ever. "I want you to be my first mate, Sparrow," he spoke up suddenly, nearly startling Jack with the suddenness of his voice in the quiet cabin.

"You want me to what?" Jack asked with a confused frown although he was secretly pleased by the request. "Sir, I'm not even an official member of your crew."

Kruler didn't ask Jack to sit although he was tempted for the occasion. He knew that Jack wouldn't react well to the further treatment as an equal rather than a subordinate bordering on a slave at times during their relationship. "Sparrow, you've shown more courage and ruthlessness than any member on my crew. All the men are either afraid of you or want to kill you. And even the ones who want to kill you fear you at least a little or else they wouldn't want to kill you."

"So you're saying that all the men fear me except for those who want to kill me but they fear me too because they want to kill me. Is that it?"

Kruler took a minute to decipher that before nodding. "Accept the position, Sparrow. It's yours."

"Mine?" Jack asked, moving a single finger over his smoothly shaved chin in consideration. "If you say that the position is rightfully mine then I can do nothing else but take it."

"'Take what you can. Give nothing back,'" Kruler toasted after handing Jack a crystal glass filled to the brim with the best rum he had been able to come across. Their glasses clinked together and they drank; the agreement sealed.

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"I can send your men out if you'd rather speak in private, Elizabeth," Kiquan addressed her softly so that her _men_ wouldn't overhear.

She had been about to argue that they weren't her men, but then she thought about it. She was engaged to one, had considered marrying another, and had given her maidenhead and fathered children with another. They were definitely her men now. Bloody hell. Why did life have to be like this? It wasn't fair! Did she want them to leave? She had a pretty good idea of what this…Kiquan?...was going to say, but was she ready for him to say it? Was Will? Was Jack? She had an idea James already knew, but what if he didn't? And what would Will say when he found out? God, she wasn't ready for this.

"You must decide," Kiquan said gently, his voice calming her even as his exotic appearance did the exact opposite.

Elizabeth took a breath, the hope that he wouldn't ask her that vanishing with her inhalation. She was not some simpering moron like those idiotic women back in London. She would face this, no matter the outcome. "Yes, they may stay. They need to hear this." She hesitated. "All of them."

Kiquan's bald head bobbed as he nodded. He cleared his throat and spoke up so Will, James and Jack could hear his speech again. "You are with child, correct?"

Needless to say, there were quite a few different reactions to that one. Well, actually there were only two. Jack and Will both paled dramatically, more so in Jack's case than Will's though. Will also managed to look incredibly confused while Jack just looked horrified. Norrington on the other hand just nodded grimly, seemingly not surprised at all.

Elizabeth nodded, looking at Kiquan and no one else. How was it so easy to tell him all of this when she couldn't even tell her fiancé or her child's father? He was a stranger. That had to be it. "It's Jack's."

Every eye immediately turned to Jack who looked as if he wanted either run and hide or beg her to tell him that it wasn't true. "You're going to have my child, Elizabeth? Are you certain?" he asked, meeting her gaze briefly before looking out in the direction of the sea. He couldn't face her and he certainly couldn't face Will right now. Not only had he deflowered the man's fiancé and love of his life, but he had gotten her pregnant as well. This was one of those days when he wished he had died on that godforsaken island when Barbossa had left him there. How much grief would have been prevented?

"I'm certain. I haven't…um…there hasn't been anyone else," she said, blushing with shame. She couldn't face Will any more than Jack could right now.

A lot of things could be said about Jack Sparrow, but not knowing where his responsibilities lay was not one of them. The dim hope that he could just sail away on the Pearl and leave all of the past month behind him as a faint memory had not been much to begin with, but now it was mere dust in the air fading into nonexistence. "What…what do you want me to do?" he asked aloud, not directing the question specifically to her, but to Will as well. He wasn't sure he could just up and leave her like this when he was responsible, but if that was what she truly wanted, he would do it.

Before she could even begin to think up an answer to that, Will interrupted them all by quickly leaving the small hut, but not before Elizabeth saw the wounded look on his face.

"I'll go after him," Norrington spoke up after a minute of heavy silence. "You two," he gave both Elizabeth and Jack the same pointed look, "have many things to work out. I suggest you get started."

Norrington left without a further word to chase after Will, leaving Jack, Elizabeth and Kiquan in uncomfortable silence.

"I will leave. I think conversation would flow more freely if I were not here," Kiquan spoke up suddenly, startling both Jack and Elizabeth out of brooding thoughts. He nodded to each of them in turn and followed his chief out of the hut. Silence reigned again as neither Elizabeth nor Jack spoke a word. Jack opened and closed his mouth a few times, but each time he seemed to think better of what he had been about to say and stopped himself.

After a few long minutes of that, Elizabeth finally decided she had had enough and spoke up. "Well? Are you going to say anything or are you just going to stand there looking like a gobsmacked fool?"

"Definitely the latter, Miss Swann," Jack murmured with a strange quirk of his mouth. It might have been a smile under better circumstances. "Are you going to keep the child? I know midwives can—" Before he could go into any graphic details of the specifics of just what those particular midwives did, Elizabeth cut him off with a glare.

"I am _not_ going to do…_that._ I don't care how this child was begotten. It's still mine. I'm keeping it," Elizabeth said determinedly.

"And…where do I fit in with all of this?" Jack asked tentatively. "If you want me to leave…say the word and I will. You'll never have to lay eyes upon me if that's what you truly want. The ocean's a large place."

"No…that's not…I don't know, Jack. I don't know how I feel about all of this. It's too fast and too soon for me to have to decide but it looks like I have no choice," she said with a sad smile. "You're a father Jack. It doesn't matter how it happened, I don't want to talk about that ever again, but it's true. If…my father finds out…I don't know what he'll do. And Will…god." Tears gathered bright and shiny at the corners of her eyes but she didn't let them fall. Not in front of Jack. Not in front of anyone.

"And when he kills me after he's cooled off enough to think of the idea?" Jack asked, not saying who '_he'_ was, nor needing to.

Elizabeth had been about to say that Will wouldn't try to kill him, but was she really sure of that fact? She didn't know what to expect. How would a man react upon the knowledge that his fiancé was pregnant by another man? Not just another man, but his best friend? No woman could know. "We'll…burn that bridge when we come to it, Jack," she said softly.

He nodded slowly before speaking. "I'm sorry for…putting you in this position, Miss Swann," he said, looking down at his feet in a clearly uncharacteristic manner. "All of this is my fault."

"I thought I told you that I didn't want to talk about it anymore, Captain Sparrow? I meant that. It doesn't exist anymore. I can't say it never happened, because there's considerable proof that it obviously did, but I can and will forget the rest. And the father of my child has the right to call me by my first name, _Jack_," she said pointedly.

Jack almost frowned at her at that. How was she able to put all that had happened between them aside so easily when he was still suffering with the idea that he had raped her let alone gotten her pregnant? _Denial, pure and simple.__ You've seen it before and now you're seeing it again. It will all hit her hard sooner or later. You might not want to be around when it does._ "Alright…Elizabeth," he said at last, nodding slowly in her direction. "If…there's nothing else, then I should probably attempt to make peace with your blacksmith," Jack said with a pained smile. Elizabeth nodded, thankful for his direction but angry at herself that she didn't have the confidence to do the same yet. "I'll send him back to you when I'm done." He left her to her thoughts before she could answer him.

WWW

"I know you're upset Will, but be reasonable. This isn't Elizabeth's fault. And it's not Jack's either," Norrington argued as he watched the young blacksmith place up and down the beach. He had moved as far away as he could from his fiancé and pirate friend as he could without becoming lost and that meant the beach. Norrington had no doubt that Will would have kept on distancing himself from them had the water's edge not stopped him.

"Then who's fault is it?" he asked angrily, still stalking back and forth along the water line like a caged animal. "If it's not Elizabeth's and it's not Jack's, then whose fault is it?"

"That bastard Lorelac's," Norrington answered without hesitation.

"Please," Will said derisively. "How easy was it to defeat him? If all Jack needed to do was to destroy a tiny fragile crystal to stop him, then why didn't he do it earlier? He knew, Norrington. He knew about the crystal beforehand and he did nothing about it."

"You don't know that," Norrington said with a frown. "You're upset and reasonably so but that's no excuse to turn on your friends and especially not your fiancé," Norrington didn't want to chastise Will like this, but the man seemed to be giving him no choice. He vaguely wondered how had had gotten himself mixed up in all of this_. Oh yes. That fool pirate had gotten himself possessed by an evil spirit. It's all coming back to me now,_ he thought dryly.

"What do you know about being upset?!" Will shouted back at him, still stalking angrily up and down the beach. Norrington laid into him without hesitation.

"How quickly you forget," Norrington said in a calm and collected but undeniably rage-filled voice that stopped Will's anger in its tracks. "Whether or not you work things out with Elizabeth, after this is all over you will be able to return to Port Royal and back to your life there."

"James, I—"

"I'm not finished," Norrington interrupted evenly. "Any life I might have led there is gone. There is nothing for me there. I have been stripped of everything I have so callously and quickly that it sickens me just to think upon it. So don't talk to me about being upset, William Turner, for you know nothing of it."

It was Will's turn to rebuke Norrington. "What the bloody hell are you talking about? My fianc's been raped by my best friend and conceived a child by him. I think I'm entitled to be a little bit upset. If you don't think so you can go straight to hell." Will stopped his mindless pacing but turned his back on Norrington in his now cold anger.

Norrington took a breath, held it, and released it slowly. Arguing was solving nothing. "Are you going to talk to Elizabeth?" he asked after a few minutes had passed in silence.

"I don't know."

"She's still your fiancé, promised to be your wife, despite all that has happened, Will," Norrington reminded him gently.

"Don't you think I know that? And still…I have no idea what to say to her. I…can't talk to her now. I'm sorry. I'm not mad at her…I don't think…but I'm not ready."

Norrington nodded, seeming to accept this. "Do you want me to tell her that?"

"Would you? I mean, make sure she knows I'm not mad at her. I'm not. I just need some time to think. Will you tell her that for me?"

Norrington nodded again and left Will to his thoughts. He intercepted Jack on the way back to the village. "I don't think he's going to want to talk to you right now," Norrington told him seriously.

"I imagine that is so, but I have to try anyway. For Elizabeth's sake if not his," Jack answered with a sad sigh. Norrington turned and gave him a piercing look that made Jack frown in confusion. "What? Spit it out, man. If you want to take a stab at ol' Jack, now's the time."

"What are your intentions?"

"My intentions regarding whom—oh. You mean Elizabeth." Norrington nodded. "Why? Are you planning on running me through if I tell you I intend on abandoning her and…our child?"

"Are you?" Norrington asked, keeping his face and voice free of emotion as he waited for Jack's answer.

Jack scoffed at him. "Listen. I don't know what you've heard about me or what you think you know about me but I wouldn't do that. Especially not to Elizabeth."

"So does that mean you'd do it to someone else?" Norrington pressed, still keeping his voice emotionless.

"Stop putting words in my mouth! That's not what I meant and you bloody well know it! No matter what…I may or may not have done in the past, I wouldn't hurt her," Jack said firmly, glaring in Norrington's direction. "And to think I shared my rum with you."

Norrington gave him a weighing look. "You also let me steer the Pearl."

"You're not helping my mood any, Commodore," Jack muttered.

"I'm not trying to, Captain," Norrington responded tit for tat. "I'm trying to gauge your intentions regarding Miss Swann. I thought I had made that clear."

Jack opened his mouth to retort but stopped himself; showing restraint that Norrington admired. "And are you satisfied?"

"I suppose," Norrington said after a long enough pause that Jack was about to snap his fingers in front of Norrington's face to see if he was still awake. "Are you?"

"It's not up to me," Jack murmured. "It's all up to her."

Norrington nodded. "Good. Now you'd better go and find Will. You and he need to have a long conversation. I wish you the best of luck."

"I think I just may need it. And more," Jack said with a sigh.

"More than likely," was Norrington's only response before he turned and went off to do whatever he did on this island when he came here on his own from time to time. Chief-y things and the like. Jack took a deep breath and headed off to go talk to Will, dreading the conversation with each step closer.

WWW

Off the west coast of Africa, in the pirate ship The Hangman's Knuckles, Captain Zachariah Kruler, 1675

"What do you have to say for yourself, Xavier?" Jack hissed to the belled pirate in front of the gathered crowd as Captain Kruler watched on silently.

"I have nothing to say to you, boy. You're going to have me killed no matter what I say so what's the point?" Xavier asked.

"You're weak, Xavier; a threat to us all. You have been told before and again to grow a backbone, and you haven't listened. It's too late now. Your life is forfeit," Jack said with grim finality.

"What happened to you, Sparrow? No. Sparrow's not your name. You're name's—" Xavier was cut off by a sword at his throat. He looked down the blade to it's owner and saw Jack standing there, looking at him with a icy fury that turned his dark eyes into two cold lumps of coal. It was then that he knew, truly knew, that he was going to die. He had had a good idea of it before then-the fact that his hands were bound in front of him and that he was standing at sword-point was a good hint-but a part of him still held out for mercy even then. That part was now dead. There would be no mercy from Kruler's murderous protégé. None at all. It didn't matter that Sparrow wasn't really his name. It was who he was now; a rabid sparrow that was set to pick his eyes out.

"You're a monster, Sparrow. They were children, innocent children for god's sake. And you killed them," Xavier accused. "They cried and they pleaded for mercy and you killed them all as if you hadn't even heard them. Innocent children, Sparrow! You sent them home to their mothers and fathers in boxes."

"No. I didn't send them at home at all. And especially not to their mothers and fathers. They were killed along side them. A bit of mercy on my part, I rather think. I didn't separate them in the end. They all died together. They deserved it."

"You're out of your bloody mind. How could anyone deserve that?" Xavier asked incredulously, no longer afraid of death. Once he had decided that it was inevitable, there was nothing left to fear. Now he wanted answers.

"They stood against us," Jack said simply as if it were the most reasonable explanation in the world. "Everyone who stands against us will die. They should know that by now."

"Everyone who stands against _you_, you mean. Because before you bloody came along, we weren't like this. We didn't kill without reason. We stole, we plundered, we ravaged, but we didn't kill unless we had to. That's all changed now."

"Yes. I've made this ship better; something to be feared." He leaned in close to Xavier so that his words were for the condemned pirate only. "I've made this ship what it is. It has nothing to do with Kruller. He's as weak as you are. He just hides it better. I've taken his ship out from under him and you know what the best part is? He's let me do it. It's only a manner of time before he outlives his usefulness and I maroon or kill him."

"But he's your captain," Xavier said in shock. "That would be mutiny."

"I don't owe him anything. He made me this way and now he has to deal with what he's created. I know you think I've forgotten what he did to me, but I don't. I remember everything." This wasn't exactly true, but was close enough for a dead man's purposes. Jack wasn't entirely sure why he was telling him all of this-probably because he was about to send him to David Jones' embrace-but that didn't stop him. "This ship will be mine and the world will fear me." Before Xavier could respond to that, Jack had slit his throat and pushed him overboard for the sharks.

WWW

"I don't want to talk to you right now, Jack. So leave," Will grumbled as he sat down on the beach and stared out to sea.

"I'd be more than happy to oblige your request, but I'm afraid I cannot, lad," Jack answered with a sigh as he walked up behind him. He didn't ask how Will knew that it was him. Some things were simply shared between the two of them, and curiously, knowing where the other person was without looking was oftentimes one of them.

"Do not call me that. I'm not your _lad. _Or _whelp_ or _boy._ I have a name, and I'd think that since you've taken advantage of my wife and caused her to become with child I have a right to be called by it. Wouldn't you think?" he asked dryly.

"William it is then," Jack said softly.

"What are you still doing here? I thought I told you I wanted you to leave. I have absolutely nothing to say to you. Nor do I want to hear any of your excuses or your lies. I have heard more than enough."

"I haven't lied to you, Will," Jack said with a sigh.

"All you've done is lie. That's all you ever do. You're a pirate. I suppose I shouldn't be all that surprised. All pirates are liars. And murderers. And rapists."

Jack gasped as if Will had dealt him a physical blow. But he was right. That was what he is. And what was more; Elizabeth hadn't been the first unwilling woman he had taken. He remembered others now. "You're right. About everything."

"So you admit it then?" Will asked bitterly. "You admit that you raped her. Not Lorelac, but you."

Jack nodded but then realised that Will couldn't see him. "Yes. I did it. I've killed, I've raped; I've done it all and more. I am a damned man. I always have been. You should have let me die."

"You've really done all that?" Will asked suddenly, keeping his voice free of emotion as best he could.

"Yes. When I was younger. I was…a different person then," Jack said softly, bowing his head a little in shame. "I've done horrible things, Will. What I did to Elizabeth is only one of the more recent."

Will couldn't take it anymore. He was a man of action; a man of honour; and this had gone too far. It wasn't enough that Jack had raped and gotten Elizabeth pregnant, but that he had done it to others as well? Why hadn't he been stopped before now? How had he managed to escape all those times? _Because he's good at getting fools to trust him and help him. You let him go. _The thought was whispered so quietly within his mind that he wasn't even sure he had heard it in the first place. It served its purpose however, sending Will into a rage that had him grabbing for the hilt of his sword and lunging for Jack.

Jack barely had time to draw his own sword and meet Will's enraged lunge before ending up with his guts spilled out onto the sand at his feet. As it was, the clang of their swords together sent a painful jarring through his arm and he nearly dropped his sword. He kept ahold of it purely by his overwhelming sense of survival. "Will, stop this! I don't want to have to kill you!" Jack pleaded with him as they fought.

"You deserve to die, you honourless bastard. You should have been killed long ago. How many people would have been safe if you had died then?"

If Jack had cared to stop and think about it-or had the time to-he might have been able to give Will an answer to that question. He might have even let Will kill him after thinking about all the things he had done then and now, but as it was now, he could only fight for his life with every fibre of his being. This was survival, pure and simple. "Will, stop this. For Elizabeth's sake if not your own." That, it seemed, had been the wrong thing to say.

WWW

"Are you sure they're going to be all right left out there alone? Will seemed awfully mad," Elizabeth said softly.

Norrington took her hand and did his best to reassure her. "They're friends, Elizabeth. They'll remember that and together they will work this out."

"I hope you're right," Elizabeth said with a worried look in the vague direction of the beach.

WWW

"Will please, I'm begging you. Stop this. I'm your friend and you're not a killer," Jack pleaded with him.

Will shook his head. "That's not true. I am a killer. I've killed pirates. I threw my axe at one when they were invading Port Royal and merely pulled it out and moved on. I didn't feel guilty for it at all. And I'm not going go feel guilty for killing you either. And if I ever do, I'll only have to think of the lives I will have saved by your death and I will be mollified."

What could Jack say to that? He could see the righteous light in Will's eyes as he swung his sword to meet his. Will was right that long time ago. It was a fair fight, and it looked as if Will was winning. And what was more; Jack was holding back. He truly didn't want to kill Will. No matter what had happened between them now, Will was his friend and friends didn't simply kill each other. _Oh really? And what about Barbossa? Wasn't he your friend? _Jack ignored that thought. "Stop this, Will. Please. Don't let yourself be turned into me. Are you going to enjoy killing me?"

"Yes," Will answered without hesitation, something inside of him cheering at the answer why another part was railing against it.

"Then that should be all the reason you need to stop. You're a good person, Will. Someone your father would have been proud of."

"You don't get to talk about my father. He was a good man. Unlike you. You tricked him somehow. You had to have or else he wouldn't have been your friend. Did you kill him?"

The question threw jack aback enough that he dropped his guard and Will's sword got through his defenses to score a stinging line across the tender flesh of his side, cutting through clothing and skin with ease. It wasn't a truly serious wound, but it would bleed, and blood loss meant a lack of the energy he needed to fight off a man half his age and fed by righteous anger. He wasn't going to make it. He was going to die by Will's hand on this bloody beach.

WWW

"I think I should go check on them. Do you think I should go check on them?" Elizabeth asked in a worried voice. "They've been gone for quite a long time. What if they had a fight?"

Norrington didn't want to worry her, but his thoughts had been traveling along the same lines. "No. You stay here. I'll check on them. I wouldn't want you to become caught in the middle of something."

"I'm already in the middle, James," Elizabeth reminded him gently. "And I'm not going to break if that's what you're worried about. I'm coming with you. Maybe together they'll listen to us. If they're really fighting."

"I sincerely hope they're not Elizabeth, for your sake. But if you insist, then you may accompany me," Norrington said and offered her his arm.

Elizabeth took it without hesitation and the two of them made their way through the camp and down to the beach where Norrington had seen them last.

The scene they were met with halted and horrified them both into silence: Jack was standing on the beach with a bloodied sword in a his hand standing as still as a statue and looking as if a vital part of his existence had simply been snuffed out. He was staring downward at Will but it didn't seem as if he were really looking at him. It would probably be more accurate to say that it seemed like he was looking through Will rather than at him. And Will…

Will was lying at the ground at Jack's feet, staring up at him with the same intense gaze. He had also gone as still as a statue, mirroring his friend. But something was different. Something was wrong.

Elizabeth saw it before Norrington did and ran to her fianc's side, shaking him roughly and yelling at him to wake up in a loud hysterical voice. Will didn't stir, and neither did Jack. Norrington moved to the pirate captain and began to do much the same as Elizabeth; attempting to bring Jack to awareness so that he could get an answer out of him as to what had happened. Norrington hadn't yet noticed that Will didn't seem to be breathing while Jack clearly was even as he didn't move anything else. Norrington hadn't even seen him blink.

"Will! No! Don't do this to me! Don't you dare leave me! I love you! Please, please, come back to me! I'll do anything you want. I won't have the child. Just talk to me, please. Don't leave me." Elizabeth's shouting turned into loud whimpers and random sobs as Will remained as he was.

Norrington whirled around and looked down at Will for the first time; fully seeing what Elizabeth had the instant she had run to her fianc's side. Will was dead. And Jack had killed him.

TBC

A/N: -Merrie runs and hides from the angry mob-

Reviewer Response Time! Woowww!! 100 plus reviews! I love you guys!!!

OpraNoodlemantra: Yeah, ee, that was a long time between updates again. Very sorry about that. Was this chapter angsty enough for you?

BraveSymbol: SS, please don't kill me. I didn't mean to make it that cliffhanger-ish, I promise! –attempts to look innocent-

AJB-Same for you, AJB. Please don't bury me in scrollies. I wouldn't be able to write the new chapter of DR then. ;-)

Arenas-Yes, Mr. Evil Breakfast is going down. Probably soon. Our dear evil Jack wants his own ship. Far be it from me to try and stop him. ;-)

HF-woot! Glad to have you back, HF! Sorry the wait was so long for this one!

FalconWing-This one was a little more dark. Well, a lot actually. I hope you liked it.

Ellennar-Yes indeed. Kruler will be made to suffer for what he's created. Don't you worry. ;-)

Ellie-Yea! A new reviewer! –hands out a Lorelac action figure complete with temporary tattoo- Well, you got your image-Jack standing still as stone, mouth open in shock, hope you liked it. And I'm glad you like my Norry as well. I love that man. :-) I do hope you come back next chapter.

Mistress of Destruction-Do you still think you're getting used to the darkness after this chapter? Lemme know. ;-)

Mrs Sparrow-Yea! Another new reader! One who thinks I need therapy! Lol –hands model version of the Back Pearl, complete with dead crew- ;-) I like writing and reading twisted stories, I must admit. And this one's now done twisting and turning yet obviously. I hope you will continue to like it!

The Phantom's Christine-Yeah, Jack killed them slowly. He is turning out to be a real evil jerk, huh? Makes me wonder how he's going to get back to the Jack we know and love from the movie. As soon as I write it, I'll let myself and all of you know. ;-)

Holliday1081-I like Jack and Norry's growing rapport as well. They're fun to write together. The pirate and the albeit formal naval officer. Who would have thought? I'm very glad you liked the tattoo scene. That was something that had been in my head for quite awhile and I'm glad to see that it appealed to someone else as much as it did to me. Also, yes, Kruler is very evil and cruel and Jack is turning out to be the same way, but don't forget. These are flashbacks… I'll get him loveable again. Somehow.

Anyway, thank you to everyone who reviewed and even to those of you who didn't. Hope to see you all back next chapter!

Oh, and Happy All Saints Day everyone!

-Merrie


	11. Chapter 10: Murder and Malady

A Gilded Cage: Sequel to Broken Wings, Part II of the Fallen Sparrows Trilogy

A Pirates of the Caribbean story by Merrie

Disclaimer: Jack, Norry, Liz, Kruler, Kiquan, Lorelac, Jack and all others own me. I would never attempt to claim otherwise.

Summary: Lorelac is seemingly gone, Jack remains as one of the most wanted men in the known world, Elizabeth's still pregnant, Will still doesn't know, Norrington's still without a job, and Jack's still got more of his grisly past to share.

Characters: Captain Jack Sparrow, Chief James Norrington, Elizabeth Swann, Captain Zachariah Kruler, Lorelac, Will Turner and various others.

Author's Note: I have no excuses whatsoever for the length of time it took to get this chapter posted. I can only hope you'll enjoy the chapter and forgive me for the delay.

Rating: R for violence and language.

Chapter 10: Murder and Malady

It had been over two hours since they had found Will's body on the beach and still Jack hadn't said a word. He wouldn't have even moved from Will's side had Norrington not forced him to come back to the village. Elizabeth was beside herself with grief and had likewise said nothing to anyone. But unlike Jack who didn't make a sound, the whole village could hear her sobs even thought she tried to keep them quiet.

"We should bury your friend, my chief. The hot sun is unkind to those the gods seem fit to take," Kiquan said softly at Norrington's side. "And I have done all I could for the pirate. I have cleaned his wounds and bandaged them, but I fear his soul has been lost. He said not a word while I did so."

"I think Elizabeth would want to take Will's body back to Port Royal," Norrington said and turned to look in Elizabeth's direction. While she had been trying to quiet her sobs, she hadn't yet tried to remove herself from the presence of others; something Norrington was thankful for. It showed that she may recover from this in time. He had begun to believe that Jack wouldn't, however. The man simply sat where Norrington had placed him, and stared vacantly ahead, not moving or speaking at all. Kiquan was right. It was as if whatever it was that made Jack, Jack, had been taken away.

"No," Elizabeth said suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Bury Will at sea. Port Royal might have been his home, but his soul belonged out there among the waves. It was where he was truly alive."

A shudder that may have been imagined seemed to move throughout Jack's lean frame at her whispered words. Had it been Norrington's imagination or had Jack paled dramatically under his deep tan? Norrington had begun to doubt his own eyes after watching Jack those two hours. He thought he had seen the pirate move more than once, and yet when he took a second look and attempted to talk to him, Jack remained just as he had been when they had found him with Will.

"If that's what you want, Elizabeth," Norrington said softly. He had refrained from calling her Miss Swann during those two hours, not wanting to remind her that among other things, she and Will had never been married. They had planned a life together, and now all of that was gone. He couldn't imagine what she must be going through right now. It was unthinkable that his had happened. He still couldn't fully believe it.

"I think it's what Will would want. I hope it is," she said softly, looking in the direction of Will's body outside the small hut. They had wrapped it in brightly coloured scarves made by the women of the village and placed it on a stone alter that seemed to have been created for the very purpose. Elizabeth didn't really like the scarves. They were too pretty; too garish for such an occasion as this. She had as much to Norrington earlier, but he had gently reminded her that there was nothing else. They could have gone out to the Pearl too look for something suitable, but Elizabeth didn't want to associate herself with anything of Jack's so soon. She didn't blame him for Will's death though. She couldn't. Not now. Not after losing Will. It was a twisted kind of logic, but she couldn't stand to lose another of the men in her life. It would surely break her.

"I'm sure it is, Elizabeth. He never truly belonged in Port Royal. I sometimes wondered when I was younger if he hadn't been born of the sea in which we found him. He never talked about that time. At least, not with me."

"Whenever I asked him about his past, about his mother and father, he always said he didn't want to talk about it. That it was in the past and that was where it belonged. Even after Jack first showed up and claimed he knew Will's father; still he didn't talk about it. I think he was ashamed, despite everything."

"I'm sure I played some part in that," Norrington said softly. "I was always reminding him of the fact that he was a blacksmith, nothing more. I was quite horrible to him. It's a wonder he ever decided to be my friend. I'm not sure I would have done the same were our positions reversed."

"Will was always able to see the good in people and look past the rest," Elizabeth said softly, looking down at her feet. Tears had begun to collect in the corners of her eyes again, but they didn't fall. "He knew you were a good man, James. That's why he was your friend." She sniffed. "I can't believe he's gone."

"He's not," Jack spoke up hoarsely, startling them all. "He was never there. He couldn't be gone now."

"What? What do you mean? Jack, tell us what happened, please," Elizabeth pleaded to him. "This doesn't make any sense. Why did he have to die? Why him?"

"And not me?" Jack murmured in a slow dull voice.

"That's not what I meant," Elizabeth answered.

"Yes, it is. Your heart knows it. If you were given the choice, you would choose the man you loved and who loved you in return over the man who wronged you. I don't blame you for that. I would have chosen Will too."

"Tell us what happened, Jack. How did Will die?" Norrington asked.

Jack shook his head.

"Please, Jack. Tell me how he died," Elizabeth pleaded softly when Jack wouldn't answer.

"I don't know," Jack said after a few long minutes of silence.

"What? What do you mean you don't know? You were there, Jack. His blood was on your sword. You killed him," Norrington responded.

Jack shook his head again. "No, I didn't. I wouldn't have. He was trying to kill me and I thought he was going to. He could have. But then…"

"Then what, Jack? What happened?" Elizabeth asked before Norrington could.

"I don't bloody know, alright? One minute he was coming after me with his sword, bent on spilling my blood in defense of your honour, and the next I'm here."

"What do you mean, you're _here?_ You don't remember anything after fighting with Will? You don't remember us bringing you back here?" Norrington asked incredulously.

"I didn't even know where _here_ was up until a few minutes ago. Look, you're not bloody well listening to what I'm trying to tell you. When I left, Will was _still alive._ I didn't kill him."

"If you didn't kill him, then who did?" Elizabeth asked. No one had an answer for her, least of all Jack. He just hoped that he hadn't simply forgotten that he had killed his best friend. That wasn't the sort of thing one forgot easily, was it?

WWW

_The following has been translated into King's English._

"I pledge myself to thee, of god of mischief and storms, of death and destruction. I am ever your faithful servant. Look upon me with favour, god Lorelac as I bear your sigil proudly. I do not attempt to hide it as my cowardly brothers do. They are weak, my lord. I strive to be strong in your sight. I do not deny my heritage as a child of the fallen as they do. I embrace it. I embrace you. My ancestors have followed your name since your power shook the very halls of Oonid on the Kourikan Plane. They were right to fear you my lord, for you would rule them all."

The figure lay prostrate on the ground before rising up to face an idol of stone and ivory on a bloodied alter. "I offer up this blood sacrifice to you, my dark lord. The blood is of a warrior killed in an act of hate and will strengthen you and your power." The figure poured the wooden bowl full of still warm blood onto the alter and moved back to pray. "This offering was given with an impure heart, my lord. Grant your loyal servant power beyond my wildest dreams. Let me serve at your left hand and together we will bring destruction and chaos to this world. I remain as always, Lorelac, your dark servant. May your name bring terror and sorrow to all that hear it."

WWW

Off the west coast of Africa, in the pirate ship The Hangman's Knuckles, Captain Zachariah Kruler, 1675

"I know what you're trying to do, you bastard, and it's not going to work. This ship is mine," Captain Kruler hissed as he and Sparrow circled each other like two dogs fighting over the same bone.

"You're weak, Kruler; blind. This ship is already mine. I've killed all of your allies and you were too caught up in pride at your _precious Sparrow's_ accomplishments to see it. There is no one left for you now. They all belong to _me._"

Kruler shook his head. "You're wrong. The men know who their captain is. They would never follow you. You're a madman, and madmen are weak."

"I may be mad, but I have never been weak," Sparrow growled.

Kruler laughed at that, causing Sparrow to scowl and grab the hilt of his sword before ordering himself to let it go. Death by the sword was far too good for this man. "How quickly you have forgotten, little sparrow. You begged us to kill you after we put your cousin to death with the belief that you had betrayed him. And that was only the first time. You are weak. You've always been weak. You're a small pathetic man with small pathetic dreams. You could never hope to lead the men of this ship. They will never follow you. They will see your weakness as easily as I can."

Sparrow grew very still, his eyes going cold. "They are already following me. Your time is over. Your ship is lost; your crew has abandoned you. No one will stand beside you now."

"You'll have to kill me before I let a pathetic weakling civilian like you take over my ship."

"That," Sparrow said coldly, still keeping his hands free of his sword, "can be arranged."

"I don't see your so called crewmates," Kruler said with a snort. "I don't see anyone at your side as you claimed. Perhaps you're not so sure of yourself after all, little sparrow."

"I told them that I would be able to take care of one frail old man on my own. They had no reason to doubt me," Sparrow answered coolly.

Kruler snarled at that and lunged at his former protégé, a wickedly sharp looking dagger in one hand, and his short sword in the other. There would be no pistols in this fight. Death would be far too quick that way.

Sparrow smirked and easily sidestepped Kruler's lunge. He didn't bother getting his own sword out; he knew he wouldn't need them. "Why are you even trying? I'm younger than you, more ruthless than you, and many times more determined than you could ever be. This ship is already mine. In fact, I really don't even have to kill you. I could just maroon you somewhere and leave you to die. I'll admit, the thought of you starving to death does have its appeal. I like slow deaths. But then, the more I thought about it, the more I decided that I'd rather kill you myself. Besides, I'm having fun. Are you having fun? You don't look like you're having fun. That is very disappointing," Sparrow sighed with a frown. "Oh well. One can't have everything, I suppose."

"You're insane," Kruler said incredulously. He had been fighting with Sparrow during his entire little speech, and still the man didn't take out his sword. He simply avoided every move Kruler made as he talked as if they were performing some dance rather than fighting to the death. And the look on his face…he truly thought that Kruler would want to die. That he would _enjoy_ dying. Utter insanity. It had been a mistake to bring him aboard. He saw that now. A pity he hadn't seen it earlier.

"Sticks and stones," Sparrow murmured with a shrug. "Are you finished yet?"

"Finished with _what? _What is wrong with you?" Kruler asked, not believing what he was hearing. How could he have misjudged Sparrow so incredibly? He had thought that he knew him; thought that he knew how to _manipulate_ him, but it was obvious that he had never really known him at all.

"You should have killed me when you had the chance," Sparrow said calmly, as if he told people such things every day.

"Maybe this is my chance," Kruler answered him and the two of them began circling each other, each bent on murder of the other, but neither making a move against each other for the moment.

"You're deluding yourself," Sparrow said with a snort. "These are your last moments on this earth. Is there anything you wish to say? I'm listening."

Kruler opened his mouth to say something, and Sparrow made his move. With lightening-quick fingers, he plucked out Kruler's obsidian black eye and shoved it into his mouth, forcing his former captain's head back with a vicious jerk and causing the false eye to roll back and lodge itself in Kruler's throat.

Sparrow simply watched as Kruler's weapons clattered to the deck and his hands went to claw at his throat, desperately trying to get to the thing that was cutting off his air. His face was already beginning to turn colours, and Sparrow only laughed at the display. He kept laughing as Kruler fell to his knees and slumped over onto the deck, still clutching at his throat as his tongue bulged out of his mouth, but as Kruler's struggles ceased, as did Sparrow's laughter, filling the cabin with the silence of death.

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"I killed him," Jack spoke up suddenly, sitting upright from his position on the sandy beach where Will had fallen.

Norrington frowned and turned slightly towards him. "But I thought you said you couldn't remember what happened to Will."

"What? No. Not Will. Kruler. I killed him. I just remembered."

"You killed Captain Zachariah Kruler," Norrington repeated, sounding as if he didn't quite believe it. "How? Why? I thought you told me he taught you everything you know about being a pirate?"

"How? I choked him with his own glass eye. Why? I wanted his bloody ship. And I got it. As a matter of fact, I still have it now."

Norrington cast his eyes out to sea towards the Black Pearl, watching as its black sails billowed as if it had known it was being looked upon. Norrington sometimes wondered in the middle of the night when rational thought didn't seem so rational anymore that that might be the case. The Pearl still held an eerie quality to it even after its curse had been broken. As if it were somehow aware of its surroundings. "The Back Pearl? It was Kruler's ship before yours?"

Jack followed Norrington's gaze to his beloved ship and shook his head slowly back and forth. "No, the Pearl's always been mine. She knows who her master is," he said with a smile that quickly faded as he came back to their topic of conversation. "No, I have the Hangman's Knuckles moored in a cove only I know about. It hasn't seen the open ocean in years. Too many memories. I'd burn it, but it's still a fine ship despite its heritage. And one should never blame the ship for the actions of its masters. It's bad form. The reputation of the ship always outshines its captain that way, and that, my dear commodore, is never a good thing."

"I see," Norrington said slowly. "Dare I ask how you're the only one who knows where the ship is?"

"I once considered Kruler like a father to me and yet I had no qualms whatsoever about taking his life and his ship. You bloody figure it out," Jack muttered with a scowl.

"Don't get your feathers ruffled, Sparrow," Norrington said wryly.

Jack rolled his eyes. "That wasn't funny, mate."

"Oh I don't know. I thought it had potential," Norrington said with a smile.

"I think I liked you better without a sense of humour."

"I was trying to hang you then. I dare say you didn't like me at all," Norrington pointed out.

"Not true. I knew you weren't going to let me drop. Even when you were trying to," Jack said with a nod.

"And pray tell how did you know that exactly, Jack?"

"Because I'm Captain—"

"—Jack Sparrow," Norrington finished for him. "Is that going to be your answer for everything?"

Jack shrugged. "Why should I need any other, mate?" he asked seriously.

Norrington sat on the sand for almost a full minute, shaking his head back and forth slowly at Jack's response. "You're incredible."

Jack's expression grew stony and the levity of their conversation died in agony. "No. I'm a rapist and a murderer. It's best you remember that, mate."

"I haven't forgotten," Norrington answered evenly. "I know what you've done, Jack. I may not know all the bloody details of your past, and I know what you say you are."

"What I _say_ I am? It's not in doubt. I've killed. I've dishonoured. I'm not just saying that I've done these things, Norrington, I'm _acknowledging _that I have."

"You say you knew that I wouldn't hang you a year ago. You say it's because you're _Captain Jack Sparrow_ and that you have this unnatural ability to be able to get yourself out of as much trouble as you put yourself into. That's not the reason."

"Oh really?" Jack asked dryly. "Do tell me then since you seem to know me so well. What were you thinking? And how did I know that you wouldn't hang me even as the executioner was putting the noose around my neck?"

"I was damning the law and my position for forcing me to hang a good man."

"I'm not a—"

"Yes, you are," Norrington interrupted. "I know it."

"Have you gone daft? Have you been listening to _anything_ I've bloody been telling you? Do you have any idea how many people I've killed? Well, I don't either and that's the problem! I am anything but a good man, Norrington. Don't say that again."

"You're a good man, Jack. In spite of everything that you've been taught by Kruler, you've retained your sense of honour and your sense of guilt. If you hadn't, I would kill you right now."

Jack looked across the beach that separated them at the former military officer, trying to gauge his seriousness. "You would, wouldn't you?"

"Without hesitation," Norrington answered calmly.

"Good. Because someday, you may need to."

"Do you honestly think so?" Norrington asked with a frown.

Jack nodded. "Why don't you? I-I killed my best friend," Jack said slowly, turning away from Norrington and looking out to sea. "I killed Will."

Norrington wanted to say something like, 'you don't know that,' but he could see in Jack's expression that Jack did indeed know what had happened now. "Tell me how Will died. Tell me what happened, Jack."

Jack shook his head. "I can't. Not without Elizabeth—"

"I'm here," a voice from behind them interrupted softly, startling both men into turning around, hands on their swords.

"How long have you been there?" Jack asked her once he had calmed down a bit and let the hilt of his sword go.

"Long enough," was Elizabeth's only answer. "You don't have any more excuses, Jack. Tell me how my fiancé died."

Jack frowned at her insinuation but nodded. It was no less than he deserved. "I did it."

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A few hours earlier…

_"You don't get to talk about my father. He was a good man. Unlike you. You tricked him someone. You had to have or else he wouldn't have been your friend. Did you kill him?" _

Will's question had nearly cost Jack his life. _Perhaps it sill will_, he thought as he narrowly avoided Will's blade once more. His side throbbed, and he knew that unless he ended this soon, things would get dangerous for him very quickly. _As if they're not dangerous enough already._"No, I didn't kill your father. I loved him like a brother. Why would I have killed him?"

"Liar!" Will hissed, lunging at him. The battle was very nearly over then but somehow Jack managed to keep his skin intact for a few minutes longer.

"You're going to enjoy killing me, Will. That will make you just like me. That will lower you to my level. Don't do that to yourself," Jack pleaded with him.

"You'd say anything to save your own skin," Will said coldly. "You're a pirate. And all pirates are liars."

"I'm not lying to you, Will. And I didn't kill your father. Barbossa did."

"And you killed him before I could ask him about it. How convenient," Will said coldly.

"I killed him because he was going to kill your precious Elizabeth," Jack reminded Will with a scowl. "Would you rather I had let her die?"

"If she had died then you wouldn't have been able to put your filthy hands on her later, you bastard," Will hissed, managing to cut another line across Jack's forearm with the edge of his sword.

"Damn it, Will. Don't make me hurt you," Jack warned. "You're my friend. I don't want to do this."

"I am _not _your friend, Jack. And you're not mine. A pirate is no one's friend."

"Is that so?" Jack asked with a stormy expression on his face. "Well, let me tell you something, boy. If I'm not your friend, then I'm your enemy, and you don't want me as your enemy. This, I promise you."

"Oh yeah? Or what? It seems to me that you're growing tired, Jack. You're going to lose. I'm going to kill you and reclaim Elizabeth's honour."

"This stopped being about her a long time ago, William. This is about _you._ But you're right, I am getting tired. You're half my age and a skilled swordsman, no doubt. But you forget one thing, lad."

"Oh? And what's that? That you're _Captain Jack Sparrow? _Spare me," Will said with a derisive sneer.

Jack shook his head. "No, whelp, not that." With lightening-quick movements, Jack had a wickedly sharp dagger from his boot to his hand and in-between Will's ribs before the young blacksmith could block it. "I cheat," Jack said slowly, his eyes black and full of hate as he twisted the blade he had planted in Will's side. Blood spilled over Jack's hand and Will's sword hit the sand with a soft thud as he gasped in pain.

"You bastard," Will gasped, clawing at Jack's shirtfront as he sank to his knees. "You cheating, lying bastard. I thought you were my friend."

"I'm a pirate, remember? I'm no one's friend but my own," Jack said with calm detachment as he watched Will die.

A sad, disbelieving frown marred Will's features. "You were never my friend? It was all a lie?"

"I needed you, pure and simple. You were bait," Jack said with a shrug, crouching down beside Will's prone body and wiping the blood off of his hand onto Will's shirt.

"I refuse to believe that," Will said suddenly, his mind now completely clear and free of any rage or blame towards Jack. "I'm sorry. The things I said to you…none of it was your fault. You didn't ask for any of this to happen. I know you're my friend, and I know you're Elizabeth's. I know you would never consciously hurt her. I couldn't see that before but my eyes are clear now. You're a good man, Jack. Despite," he was cut off by a series of painful coughs, but he strove on, "Despite this," he said, gesturing to the dagger still sticking out of his chest.

"No, I'm not," Jack said evenly, gripping the dagger tightly and pulling it out of Will's chest with a grunt of effort. Will screamed in pain and blood spurted from the wound, staining the sand beneath his body a vibrant red. Jack took a step back to avoid the arterial fount.

"Yes," Will's voice was growing weak now. "You are. You didn't do this. You didn't kill me. It wasn't you. It wasn't your fault."

"There's no one else, Will. Only me, your dear friend Jack Sparrow," Jack said with a shake of his head.

"Yes. Friend. You are my friend, Jack. The best friend I've ever had."

"Don't say that! I've killed you, you bleeding moron! Friends don't do that!"

"This one has," Will said with a small smile, utterly free of blame or pain. It was the last thing he ever said.

"No, no. It wasn't me. I didn't—oh god," Jack moaned to himself, taking a few steps back from Will's body in fear. "He's not dead, he can't be dead. What did I do? What have I done? I've killed him. Oh god. Why did I kill him? He was my friend, my friend, my friend…" He trailed off into silence, not saying a word as Norrington and Elizabeth passed by him to view the body of the recently departed from this earth: Will Turner; friend through to the end

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Jack stared out across the waves, squinting to see the form of the Pearl silhouetted against the growing twilight. If he was going to be killed for what he had done, the last sight he wanted to look upon was his beloved ship.

Time passed, the sun disappeared and the stars came out, but no killing blow was dealt. He began to wonder if Elizabeth and Norrington were even still behind him, but he didn't dare turn his head to look. He simply kept looking over at the Pearl, curiously thankful for the light of the seemingly full moon. He could see her almost as clearly as he could in the daylight, and she was magnificent. Wait…was it his imagination or were there holes in her sails? He took a second look with a frown, sure that his eyes surely must be playing tricks on him. She was whole again, after the curse. He had seen to it. But…where was that fog that now reached out to embrace her coming from? Surely it couldn't simply appear out of nowhere, could it? It wasn't possible.

"Dear me, Jack," Norrington's voice came quavering from Jack's side. Jack couldn't help it, something in the way Norrington had said his name made him turn. The expression on the man's face shocked him.

"What? You don't need to be frightened of me, mate. I'm not going to kill you. Not like I did Will," Jack said bitterly, casting his eyes out to look upon his ship once more. Still, it retained its ghostly figure from a year ago. What was happening?

"That's not--that's not what's wrong, Jack," Norrington said again, sounding even more worrisome than he did before. "The curse."

"What about it?" Jack asked with a confused frown. "Wait, which curse? Barbosssa's or mine?"

"I'd have to say both," Elizabeth spoke up softly. "Look at yourself, Jack."

Jack did. He held up a hand into the light of the moon, growing very still when he saw that he could see straight through to the bones of his hand and beyond. He checked himself over, frantically, not wanting to believe his eyes. Skeletal fingers came into contact with rotting flesh and bone. He was cursed as surely as he had been when he had stolen that godforsaken gold coin. "No, it's not possible. It's broken, the curse is broken. This is a nightmare."

"The curse was broken by Will, Jack," Elizabeth spoke up gently, her voice breaking on her dead fiancé's name.

"When you killed Will, the curse was unbroken," Norrington said solemnly.

Jack couldn't help it. He screamed.

TBC

A/N: Well that was fun, wasn't it? Right? –nervous laugh- Don't hate me if I tell you it was fun to write, ok? Ok. Please review!

Reviewer Responses

Puss…etc etc-I'm very glad you loved it. Sorry I didn't get this up any sooner.

JackFan2-Very very sorry. As of now, Will remains dead. But not all is lost. Not necessarily.

BraveSymbol-I did not invent the word angst, I don't think, but it is certainly a good word. ;-)

Mistress of Destruction-hoped this chapter was a little darker for you.

OpraNoodlemantra-I really hope you haven't lost your sanity by now. Sorry! Jack's change from evil sob to not so evil guy, is going to be an interesting one. I hope. Stay tuned. ;-)

FalconWing-I hope you were satisfied with what happened. I debated on who I wanted to have kill Will for awhile until I simply decided to flip a coin. This is the option that I ended up with. And it was a fun one to write. :-)

Ellenar-I really hope the Orly/Will fans don't come after me. –crosses fingers- Would it make things worse if I said I had fun writing his death scene? Eep, it probably will.

Arenas-I hope I can turn Rabid Sparrow into Jack too. We'll see. And feel free to egg me on all you like. :-)

Marvel-Yes, there will be no killing of the author because then the story wouldn't get finished. ;-) And we couldn't have that.

Holliday1081-I definitely appreciated your insights into my fic. Thank you for those. You made some very good points, rambling aside. Jack is definitely a survivalist at heart, and wouldn't simply just lie down and die. But I hope you liked the added twist I gave this chapter as well. :-)

Otherhawk-I'll pass the buck on your question and be evasive by saying neither. Or possibly both. Was that cryptic enough for you? ;-)

Lynx Ryder-speed reader, you are. I'm glad you liked my story. :-D Yes, I killed Will. No, -looks for rabid Will fans- I am not really sorry that I did. The whelp simply had to die. And yes, I've turned Jack into one rather evil sob. How about that? D

The Phantom's Christine-Yes, I killed Will. And yes, I'm not sorry I did it. Jack's just better, pure and simple. ;-) Sorry you had a headache. Hope you feel better to read this chapter.

BlueTrinity- From Lorelac-you dare to say something as petty and simply as "hi" to a god? Who are you? Bow before my feet, you puny mortal. And do not bother me again unless you have something or someone of value or importance to sacrifice for me.

Hmm, he's a meanie sometimes, sorry about that. Thank you for the review though!

Cheetah Princess-Thank you so much for reviewing! Sorry this couldn't be up sooner!

Thank you sooo much you guys! You really do keep this story going with all your kind comments and threats. ;-) See you next chapter!

-Merrie


	12. Chapter 11: Enemies and Egresses

A Gilded Cage: Sequel to Broken Wings, Part II of the Fallen Sparrows Trilogy

A Pirates of the Caribbean story by Merrie

Disclaimer: Jack, Norry, Liz, Kiquan, Lorelac and all others own me. I would never attempt to claim otherwise.

Summary: Lorelac's plotting his revenge, Will has been murdered, Elizabeth is faced to raise her child alone, Norrington's the chief of a village of Lorelac's children, and Jack's once more cursed with no cure in sight. Goodness me.

Characters: Captain Jack Sparrow, Chief James Norrington, Elizabeth Swann, Lorelac, Julian Rusgrove and various others.

Author's Note: Sorry again for the length of time it took me to post this. I had finals and I've been told that they're more important than writing fanfiction. Who knew?

Rating: R for violence and language.

Chapter 11: Enemies and Egresses

"It's been a week James, and still he doesn't talk about it," Elizabeth said with a soft sigh. "He barely eats, he hardly sleeps and I can't honestly remember the last time I've seen him smile or heard him laugh. I'm worried about him."

"I know you are Elizabeth, but can you imagine what he must be going through? And I don't even know if he _can_ eat anymore," Norrington said somberly. "It's no kind of existence to be forced to endure. It almost makes me feel sorry for that band of pirates we had all those troubles with last year."

"But…I still don't understand how it could have happened. The curse was broken, James. Will…" It still hurt to say his name. "He broke it. With the blood of his hand and Jack's, he broke it. The curse was no more."

"Apparently not, because now it's back again. You've seen it, Elizabeth. We're not imagining it. Jack is cursed. Whatever Will did to break it has been undone. And I fear the consequences of that."

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked worriedly.

"Jack wasn't the only one cursed, Elizabeth, remember? What has become of the band of pirates who were cursed with him? Are they cursed once again as well? God only knows."

"But…you hanged them. Didn't you? I thought you hanged all of them," Elizabeth asked with a frown, being courteous enough not to say what Norrington knew she was thinking: _Because that's what you do with pirates. You hang them. _

"Not all of them, I'm afraid. The more dissolute of the lot got what they deserved of course, but I imprisoned a good lot of them as well." Even then he had been changed. Even then he knew that he would never be able to do his job properly ever again. _I am no longer the man I once was_, he thought to himself as he glanced down at his commoner's clothes with the tiniest bit of regret. Not for the loss of the bloodlust-yes, he was man enough to admit that that was what it was-to hang pirates, but for the loss of everything else; his title, his home, even his self-respect. He was a dishonoured officer whose only followers were a bunch of uncultured savages who saw them as their chief only through murder. He sometimes regretted that too. He regretted ever coming to this godforsaken island.

"James?" Elizabeth's soft, unimposing voice interrupted, causing him to blink at her. Unimposing, that was a word he might not have used to describe her a year ago, but so much had changed since then. She had lost her husband, she hadn't been to her home or to see her father in a week, but worse of all, she seemed to have lost that spark that made her the adventurous young woman who would take on a band of pirates on her own. Over the past week she had become sullen and withdrawn in the advent of her fiancé's death. Norrington couldn't blame her, but he couldn't find himself to accept this lesser Elizabeth either. It wasn't her, and it never would be.

"Yes, pardon my mind's wandering, Elizabeth. You asked a question?" Norrington asked, giving her his attention once more.

She almost seemed as if to tell him to forget whatever it was she had said and to lapse back into contemplative silence, but she repeated the question he hadn't heard again anyway. "I asked if you thought the pirates are going to come after us again."

"Well, I imagine if they are indeed cursed, they will come after us, yes. If only to attempt to find out what happened. That's what I would do in any case. Also, they might now of Will's…passing. They might think he's the key to breaking the curse once more."

"How _can_ the curse be back? I simply don't understand. The curse _was_ broken." She took a breath. "His death shouldn't have caused it to come back."

"I can't claim to know the first thing about curses Elizabeth, but I will give you my opinion." Norrington took a breath to collect his thoughts. "We both seem to have forgotten this, but do you remember back when we were first going after Jack?" Elizabeth nodded slowly and Norrington continued. "Do you remember how he knew that Jack needed help?"

Elizabeth frowned in thought. "He just knew. Somehow, he just knew. But how can that be possible?"

"I can only assume that it has something to do with the curse. I have a sinking suspicion that this whole curse business is a lot more complicated than it sounds, and it sounds pretty bloody complicated already to me. Pardon my language."

Elizabeth nodded, trying to process all of this. "So…if they were so connected by the curse of what have you, then…what is happening to Jack now that that connection has been broken?"

Norrington had no answers for that one, only worries.

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Off the west coast of Africa, in the pirate ship The Hangman's Knuckles

All was silent as Sparrow left Kruler's cabin. The crew knew what had gone on inside or at least they thought they did in any case. Two men entered, and now one man left. It didn't take much in the way of brains to know that their young sparrow had decided he was tired of being theirs.

Each man knew what was going to happen when Sparrow entered their former captain's cabin. They were neither blind nor fools. They knew he wanted the ship and would take it no matter the cost. They all to a man stood behind him as well. Those who Sparrow hadn't killed were the ones who were smart enough to save their own skins by following him.

Julian Rusgrove was the first to speak up as Sparrow said not a word after he had come out of the cabin. Each man wanted to know what was going to happen next-if he was indeed their new captain or not, if he was going to attempt to slaughter them all or not-but it took who every crew member thought as the most ruthless crew member aboard-second to Sparrow of course-to gather up the nerve to ask. "So, are you our new bloody captain or what, Sparrow?" Rusgrove growled impatiently, his numerous gold teeth flashing as he clenched his jaw, waiting for an answer.

Sparrow shook his head. "Sparrow isn't. Sparrow's dead," he said so calmly that a few of the crew began to wonder if that wasn't the truth and they were talking to his ghost right now.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Rusgrove asked incredulously. Members of the crew would have told him to stop asking questions that could get him killed by the wild eyed man standing in front of them, but they were afraid of being killed by Rusgrove himself for the presumption.

Sparrow looked at Rusgrove in much the way a benevolent father would look at an unruly child; as if he understood that it wasn't Rusgrove's fault he was asking such questions. "Simple, Julian." A wave of discomfort went through the gathered crew at that. While Julian Rusgrove might have been young-only twenty three by the best reckoning-he had made it implicitly clear that he would kill if you so much looked at him crooked, and would make you wish you were dead if you were to _ever_ call him by his first name. Sparrow went on as if he called the blonde haired young murderer by his first name ever day. "I'm not Sparrow."

"Oh really?" Rusgrove asked, unbelievably seeming to shrug off the fact that Sparrow called him by his first name. "Then who are you? Jack? John? Edward? The bloody king of England?"

"Captain John Pardal," Sparrow answered after a moment's hesitation.

Rusgrove snorted. "John Pardal. Sure, mate. You do know that Pardal means sparrow in Portuguese, don't you? Of course you do. So you're our captain now, is that it? And I suppose if I were to enter the cabin behind you, I'd find Kruler's body ready for shark bait?"

Sparrow, or Pardal or whatever the bloody hell his name was now, nodded. "See for yourself. All of you. I choked the bastard with his own false eye," Pardal said with a smug grin.

"Aye, Captain," Rusgrove said with a grin himself. He had never liked the bastard anyway. What should he care if Sparrow/Pardal killed him?

Sparrow gave him a calculating look, having heard the title Rusgrove had bestowed upon him but not quite believing that it wasn't without sarcasm yet. "This is my ship now. Anyone who wants to contend with that is more than welcome to try. Just so we're clear, I'll kill anyone who does." From the way he said it, there was no doubt in any of the crew's minds that he meant it.

Once more however, the crew fell silent as the watched and waiting for Rusgrove's reaction. Most of them knew-and accepted-that if there was to be a challenge for the leadership of the ship, it would come from him. After a few moments had passed without Rusgrove saying a word, they unconsciously began to prepare for a fight, mentally siding with whoever they thought would win, whether it be Jack Sparrow/Pardal or Julian Rusgrove. Then suddenly, Rusgrove let out a laugh and grinned wide like a madman. "Looks as if the captain's off to a good start already, wouldn't you say, mates?" Julian didn't want control of the ship. He was more than willing to give Sparrow whatever control he felt he needed to feel good about himself; as long as Julian got his cut, of course.

Sparrow kept giving him a look-the one which felt like he was seeing straight through to your soul without even trying-before nodding slowly. They had reached an accord. And what was more, Rusgrove saw Sparrow's look change from calculating to thoughtful. It wasn't hard to figure what had just occurred to their new captain. Sparrow needed a first mate and Julian Rusgrove was just the man for the job.

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_Well, this is certainly an interesting development_, Lorelac thought to himself dryly. Not only was he trapped within the consciousness of a man who had been able to defeat him, but said man was now cursed as well. Lorelac could feel the sharp claws of the curse tearing their way through Jack's brain, searching for him. The curse couldn't abide competitors to its rein, and Lorelac was certainly that; if not so much at the moment.

_We know you're in here,_ the curse hissed, a barrage of voices-Lorleac couldn't tell if they were male or female-came from every direction, surrounding him.

"You don't frighten me, you insignificant worm. You are nothing when compared to my might. You are but a vengeful curse. I am a god. I am Lorelac, god of mischief and storms, of death and destruction.

_It is you who are nothing. We are older than time itself. We are eternal. We are the first._

"Now, I know you're bloody lying. You're an Aztec curse. You're not _that_ old," Lorelac said with a sneer.

_The Aztecs did not create us; they merely **used** us. They offered many sacrifices in exchange for the power to destroy their enemies. We did their work well but not before seeing to the destruction of their entire civilization. They would not call upon us again._

"If that were true, then why are you still doing their bidding?" Lorelac asked smugly.

_You are foolish to think that._

"What? That you aren't doing your masters' biddings even after all these years? You are! You've cursed Sparrow!"

_This being is merely a vessel for our power. He does not yet know it, but we have great work in store for him. As you did. You didn't choose him by accident. It was fated._

Lorelac snorted at that. "I'm in charge of my own fate. I chose Sparrow because he was convenient, not because of anything having to do with fate or destiny. I am a god. I create my own destiny."

_You are weak, Lorelac. You are the god of nothing for you fear everything. It's unsurprising he defeated you so easily._

"He did not defeat me! He can never defeat me! He is _nothing_! He's is but a mere mortal! He has no power to stand up to the very gods themselves!" Lorelac roared, his rage echoing throughout Jack's mind. Laughter began to come from all around him; starting off slow and soft at first but soon crescendoing into mass hysteria. Lorelac clamped his hands over his ears under the onslaught, unable to stand the force of it any longer. He felt as if he were being shaken apart by the very sound. Then, as if knowing he had reached the breaking point, the laughter stopped and all was silence.

WWW

"Jack, if you won't talk to Elizabeth, talk to me," Norrington's voice came sliding into his consciousness; slipping around his defenses with the ease of a well trained soldier. Jack could hear the worry in the former commodore's voice; could practically see it in his face without even looking at him. "You've got to talk to someone, you bloody daft pirate! You can't just sit out here on the beach all day not doing anything! I won't allow it!"

Jack blinked up at him incredulously. Norrington's normally pale face-despite a life spent in the Caribbean sunshine-was flushed. He was clearly angry. But why? What did he have to be angry about? Did he even consider Will a friend? Jack wasn't so sure. He had never asked, merely assumed. Why else would Norrington have come with the late blacksmith to save one man's life who he had nearly ended the year before? Jack could only assume that it was because they were friends. Either that or he wanted to look after Elizabeth's safety. Jack never considered that it was because Norrington respected or considered him a friend. Military men-even former ones-did not associate with pirates. And the reverse was true as well, wasn't it? Then why did Norrington seem so concerned?

"Snap out of it, you damn daft pirate! So you're cursed! You're not going to break that curse by simply sitting here and being bloody useless!" Norrington yelled at him.

Jack looked at him. In addition to his flushed cheeks, there was now a vein popping out in the middle of the man's forehead. Norrington truly _was_ angry. Jack couldn't believe it. Norrington never got angry. Vengeful yes, but never purely full of rage like he was now. That fact alone inclined Jack to speak, if only to discover the real source for that uncharacteristic rage. "What do you want, Norrington?" Jack asked slowly, casting his eyes out to sea. Although he wanted to know the real source for Norrington's rage, he couldn't really force himself to care that much. He wanted to know, but if he never found out, that would be acceptable too. He simply just didn't care.

Norrington let out an incredulous laugh at that. "I want you to start acting like yourself again, Jack. I want you to be bloody _Captain Jack Sparrow_ again. And for god's sake, I want you to eat something."

"Why? What's the point? I'm cursed. I'm dead. Sooner or later it won't matter if I don't eat," Jack murmured, still staring out to sea where the tattered visage of the Pearl-cursed alongside her captain-rolled in the waves. In lieu of an answer, Norrington gave him a sound slap across the cheek. It was much harder, Jack noted, than the usual slaps he got. And his hands were quite larger too. "Bloody hell! What was that for? I didn't deserve that!" Jack spluttered, bringing a hand up to his stinging cheek and glaring up at Norrington with spiteful eyes.

"Ah, glad to see I've finally got your attention, Jack," Norrington said dryly as he met Jack's stare without flinching. "Now you listen here. You're going to snap out of whatever this is and help us break the curse. You seem to have notice that your ship is once more as she was, correct?" Norrington asked, nodding towards the Pearl.

Jack scowled. "Of course I bloody noticed. She's _my_ ship."

"Obviously you haven't considered what that means. The curse is active once more. I fear that means that everyone who was once cursed is now cursed again. Including all of your pirate…friends."

Jack frowned at this, clearly not having considered it. Norrington couldn't really bring himself to blame him, not with Will's death weighing on his mind. "I assumed you had them all hanged once we reached Port Royal."

Norrington actually managed to look embarrassed. Jack could have sworn he saw him scuff a foot into the sand, but it was probably his imagination. "I did hang some. I hanged the wretched creatures who would have gone on to kill the innocent were they ever to escape. The rest I imprisoned."

"In Port Royal?" Jack asked, turning away from Norrington once more but his expression now one of thought rather that blank grief. Norrington murmured an assent to the question. "If they're cursed again they'll know they can't die. They will no longer care about the consequences of their actions if they realise they're immortal. They'll do anything to get free."

"I fear it's probably already too late for that," Norrington said solemnly, wishing there were some way he could get word from Port Royal to confirm whether or not his fears were fact. He had a sinking suspicion that they were.

WWW

Port Royal

"Commodore Gillette, sir. We've received word that the pirates in the prison cells are causing some sort of disturbance," a young guard informed the new commodore in a clipped voice, trying to hide his disdain that the sniveling little worm had ever reached such a lofty position of power. The men had stood behind Commodore Norrington, even if the officers hadn't.

"What should it matter if they are? They can't escape the cells," Gillette said smugly before tilting his head a little as if he were in deep thought. "In fact, I'd day it was about time we've hanged them all. Better to free up the cells, you know."

"But Commodore Norrington said—"

"_Mr._ Norrington is no longer with us, soldier. His decrees and promises no longer matter. Have them all hanged. Right now," Gillette said evenly, his face betraying his annoyance at the soldier's insubordinance. "And if you _ever_ speak to me in that tone again, I'll have you flogged. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Commodore," the soldier said evenly, keeping his desire to strangle the pompous bastard's scrawny neck, despite the satisfaction it would bring.

"Good," Gillette said with a nod. "See that it's done, and that no one disturbs me with such petty concerns as a group of pirates causing a little noise."

The soldier just clenched his jaw, nodded, and left.

WWW

The pirates were in fact, creating more than just a little _noise._ They were creating a veritable din of chaos and anarchy seeming to stem from last night's full moon. No one could quite figure out why. Up until that time, they had been model prisoners. Well, as model as a group of captured pirates could be in any case.

"You can't keep us in here forever! It's not right!" one of the pirates yelled; a thin young man with scraggly hair and a wooden eye. The guards had never bothered to learn any of their names. They were probably all named Mad Bill or Half-Cocked Jack anyway. Pirate names as a whole never seemed very creative, just…colorful. "Especially now that we're immort—" he was cut off by a hand placed over his mouth by his companion, a balding man with pocky skin and yellowed teeth. The same man seemed just about to say something when one of his fellow pirates pulled out a knife from somewhere-the guards who witnessed it were all dumbfounded at its appearance, they supposedly had taken all of their weapons-and stabbed him in the back with it.

"You stabbed me!" the pirate yelled before receiving a pointed glare from the man who had stabbed him and nodding; falling face-first to the floor.

The guards immediately leaped into action as if they had been waiting for such an action to occur ever since the group of pirates had been imprisoned. What followed next was pure anarchy. There were no surviving guards to witness, but if there had been, this is what they would have seen: as soon as one of the guards opened the door-fully armed of course-to check on the fallen pirate, said pirate so startled the young guard that the group was able to overpower him without fuss. Unfortunately the only thing the good Samaritan earned himself a quick death at the hands of the man he had been trying to help.

The group of once imprisoned pirates found things quite easy after that. What had begun as the day of their eventual executions had ended in their escapes. Before the event had taken place however, each man had agreed on one course of action for the future: to find out who had cursed them again and have their guts for garters.

WWW

Gillette was praying. He didn't really believe in God but he figured that what with everything going on around him, he could use all the help he could get. He kneeled as he prayed, hopefully securely hidden away beneath his desk. It was a coward's act, he knew, but that didn't incline his movements any. He stayed right where he was and kept praying. That was, until he heard the door to his office open and a gruff voice mutter to his companion. "Where did that worm run off to now? He was going to have us all hanged, you know."

"That's not right! We didn't do anything to him!" his companion giggled like a little boy now. "Except intend to kill him."

Gillette paled and stopped praying. Now, he was cursing Admiral Kleeson for ever giving him this job, and the former Commodore Norrington for ever leaving it. If it hadn't been for them, he would have been safe on a ship somewhere, not hiding beneath his bloody desk.

"We know you're in here!" One of the pirates-Pintel he thought the wretch was named-called out mockingly. _They know where I am,_ Gillette thought suddenly, his form beginning to tremble. Gone was the smugness he dealt to everyone in his life, leaving behind a gut-wrenching terror. They were going to kill him, and there was nothing he could do about it. _Get your pistol, you fool! Fight back! Don't sit here and die like a dog!_ His hand never even moved for the pistol. He would die a coward.

WWW

The Isle de Muerta was certainly living up to its name. Save for the occasional calling of gulls who dared not land on the barren landscape, there was nothing. Wind howled through the caverns of the otherwise silent treasure cave like a lover who had just shot his companion. This was a place of grief and death. It held curses and torment for whomever it was able to ensnare into its grasp. Men coming looking for fame and fortune were lucky to leave with their lives. And yet even as the stories about such a dreadful place spun and grew, still foolhardy men ventured into its stony heart and came out changed; if they came out at all.

And so time passed. Men came and went, leaving behind their blood and their treasure. The island hoarded it all in its bloody jaws, waiting to snap at any who dared to take it. Curses were woven among coins and flesh alike, coming and going as the sifting of sand. Lest it not be said that the Aztecs laid claim to the only curse held within the island's grasp. If such thing were claimed to those who knew what horrors the island held, they would have laughed at such a baseless claim. There was no Aztec curse. There never had been. The Aztecs had been greedy and their gods had abandoned them. Only devils and demons still heard their cries from the depths of oblivion, answering their cries for vengeance when it amused them. Each piece of bloodied treasure in the cavern was tied to some darker deed or promise. Each moment of pleasure taken from such wealth was only a hundred moments of pain that would be suffered.

The garishly carved chest and the gold held within had only been a means to an end. The gold was flawless and within plain sight; a surefire lure to greedy men. The curses had called; they had placed their agents in the world to ensure they were being heard, and then the waited. There was something to be said for the patience of beings older than time itself. But they needn't have waited long. Men always came. The wheel always turned. They were eternal; infallible. No one had ever stood up to their might. No one had dared Until…

All the beings of the lower realms both knew and cursed his name; _Sparrow_.To only whisper it was to invite disaster. Before, the name _Turner_ had been held with equal revulsion and fear, but now that had changed. Now there was only _Sparrow._ He who had nearly defeated the most powerful of them without a moment's regard to the consequences his actions had set in motion. He was a man and therefore foolish, but his actions in this very cave were too incomprehensibly stupid as to not be believed. But it didn't matter now. He was a man and like all men he was weak. His end had already been set in motion and he hadn't the slightest clue. His both greatest friend and deadliest foe was taking his place on the stage.

While all the creatures of hell watched avidly and the hosts of heaven anxiously, an unseen force seemed to coalesce throughout the interior of the treasure cache, spilling precariously balanced treasures in its haste to reach its destination. It came to rest before a decayed mass of bone and scraps of hair and flesh that might have once been a man and looked down upon it dispassionately. The being cared not for the outcome of its actions, only in achieving its work. With this thought floating around in a piece of darkness that might have been its mind, it set about to do its job. Flesh and bone knit back together, the tattered clothing filling out once more as smooth unmarked flesh formed beneath it. Dark hair grew luxurious and thick, far healthier than it had ever been in life. Teeth that had once been rotting and yellowed were pale and perfect in a cruelly twisting pair of pale lips. Such changes were wrought without thought or hesitation; the being only did as it was bid. _Sparrow_ had to fall. Hell would send its own warrior to make sure that happened. Even as the changes were marked over the now breathing form of a man beneath the being's cold touch, one thing remained the same. A pair of eyes snapped open that were so cold and cruel they might have pinned the very devil himself under their intense gaze. There was no pity in them. The man knew what he had to do.

WWW

Across the seas, Jack stirred fitfully in his sleep as Norrington kept a wary watch. The former military man had just been about to doze of himself despite the pirate's occasional mutterings, when Jack shot up with a strangled cry, the name _Barbossa_ still echoing throughout the room.

TBC

A/N: Well hmm…I had always intended to bring Barbossa back, but not quite like this. This story seems to be turning into some kind of epic battle for Jack's soul. Who knew? I hope this doesn't turn any of you away though. I only write it as it comes to me. Anyway, see you next chapter.

Reviewer Thanks Time

Lynx: Ok dearie I just loved your review. I love reviews like the one you posted. I.e. where you go throughout the chapter and write out lines that you think were nifty. Basically, it's just a good way to pad my already considerable ego. ;-) Keep it up!

Holliday1081: Sorry again for the wait. I'm a bad author. That said, I LOVE NORRY! Ok, I just had to say that aloud. I love that man. I had no idea that he and Jack would become friends as I started writing Broken Wings, but I hoped they would. :-D Lol, curse away about my cliffhangers. I won't hold it against you. I myself cackle fiendishly. ;-)

BraveSymbol: Did you actually scream? Cause that would be kinda cool; to get such a reaction out of one of my readers. Go ahead and scream. You know you want to. ;-)

Padme17: Well….I haven't _felt_ cursed…so I'm hoping you forgot to do it. O:-) Sorry for the wait.

OpraNoodlemantra: Um, sorry to burst your bubble and likely steal away the rest of your sanity, but Will is indeed dead. As of now I have no intention on bringing him back. But with the way this story seems to write itself, who knows? As for the person who pledged themselves to Lorelac? Well, only he knows and he's not telling me.

FalconWing: Well I hope to shock you some more in the coming chapters. I like shocking people. It's fun. And yes indeed, Jack was a bit of a meanie there towards the end, wasn't he? I wonder what that means? O:-)

Neon Daises: Not only did I reinstate the smeeping curse, but I let it out to play. I'm beginning to wonder if that maybe wasn't such a good idea…

Marvel: Ahh South Park…yes indeed. No, it wasn't very nice but the whelp had to die. These things happen. Now Liz will give birth to Jack's child and marry…um…Kiquan. Yeah. She's going to marry him. Well ok, perhaps not but you never know.

Ellenar: Lorelac: You have pleased me for now, pathetic mortal. You may yet have a place at my left hand. But my moods are like the storms and I will feel no sense of loss in striking you down should you displease me.

Isn't he such a sweetie? Thanks for the review.

Arenas: Yes, the curse. How I missed it so. ;-) Jack very well might have been possessed by Jeffrey…I'm not entirely sure. Jeffrey _is_ my muse so it's not inconceivable that he whispered a few choice ideas into my ear concerning past Jack. Who knows?

Mistress of Destruction: Hope you like the story. I have a feeling things will be getting angstier soon.

JohnnyDeppmaniac: Yea! A new reviewer! You are new, right? I could be imagining things. Sorry, Will is indeed dead. He had a good run though, didn't he? Heh…right. I think I'll just stop before the Will supporters come after me. ;-) Thanks for reviewing!

Well goodness me, you guys rock. Without you, I'd never have the motivation nor the inclination to keep continuing this fic anywhere else but within my own head. ;-) Thanks again.

-Merrie


	13. Chapter 12: Leavetakings and Lies

A Gilded Cage: Sequel to Broken Wings, Part II of the Fallen Sparrows Trilogy

A Pirates of the Caribbean story by Merrie

Disclaimer: Jack, Norry, Liz, Lorelac, Barbossa and all others own me. I would never attempt to claim otherwise.

Summary: As a battle is waged for Jack's soul by all the angels of heaven and all the demons in hell with Barbossa as their warrior, will our Sparrow be able to see a way out of the gilded cage that surrounds him before all is lost?

Characters: Captain Jack Sparrow, Chief James Norrington, Elizabeth Swann, Hector Barbossa, Lorelac, Julian Rusgrove and various others.

Author's Note: I hope you like this chapter! Things are going to be getting interesting now.

Rating: R for violence and language.

Chapter 12: Leave-takings and Lies

Location unknown, 1678

"You can't be serious mate. The 'Knuckle's is our home! She's your bloody ship taken though force and you're just going to give it up?" Julian Rusgrove asked his captain and sometimes friend John Pardal also known as Edward John Corentin Alexandre Sperling also known as Jack Sparrow incredulously.

"She's not my ship, Julian. She never has been," Jack said with a shrug. "I've taken her, tis true, but I will always be her second master. You know this as well as I."

Julian nodded. "But you must admit you've broken her in right proper, mate. You've brought more fame and fortune to the 'Knuckles then Kruler ever did. You've made the world fear you," he acknowledged with a bloodthirsty grin, knowing that he was just as feared as his captain was.

Jack answered the grin with one of his own. Unlike what the public had known of Kruler during his tenure as captain, the rumours and whisperings surrounding Jack were all true; under his new name of course. Something else that bothered him. "John Pardal has outlived his usefulness. I think it's time to remind people of who I _really _am. I think it's time to make them fear me all over again," he said with a grin.

Julian let out an honest laugh at that. "You're insane mate, you do know that don't you?" For an instant, Jack grew very still and quiet and Julian thought he had overstepped his bounds. He had been about to draw his sword in preparation for a fight to the death-such things were a regular occurrence around Jack-when a sly grin broke out on his captain's face.

"There is a thin line between madness and genius, Julian. Never forget that," Jack said bemusedly.

"With you around, how could I?" Julian responded dryly. "You're really going to give her up? You're really going to just what…start over?" Jack nodded. "Start over where? Are you going to back to England?"

Jack leaned over the rail of his ship and stared out to sea thoughtfully. "I haven't been home in five years, Julian. I don't even think it is home any longer." He continued; his voice dropping off so that it was clear he was talking to himself. "I'm not sure it ever was home."

"And I'm sure the fact that you're to be shot on sight should you step foot on English soil is a pretty good reason to stay away," Julian murmured, moving to stand next to his captain against the rail.

"It wouldn't stop me," Jack said with a grin.

"No, I imagine it wouldn't. You'd take on the entire royal navy single-handedly if it came to that and we both know it."

Jack turned his head to look at his first-mate and sometimes friend askance. "Do we?"

"You've been mad almost as long as I've known you, Jack; mad and supremely confident. If you thought you could get away with it, you'd murder your way up to the throne of England itself." Julian paused and smirked to himself. "King Jack."

Jack smiled himself for a brief moment as the image presented itself easily in front of his eyes before growing serious. "You're the only member of the crew that still calls me Jack."

"I'm the only member of the crew that you don't kill for calling you Jack," Julian continued with a wry laugh.

"Naturally. And do you know why that is, Julian? It's because you're every bit as bloodthirsty as I am and I consider you more useful as an ally than a corpse."

Julian noticed Jack's usage of the word _corpse_ instead of enemy signifying that Jack would be able to kill him before he had made an enemy out of him. Julian was a clever young man and therefore did not argue this outright. "I'm honoured," he said after a moment's thought.

"As well you should be," Jack said with a grin and a nod. "It's not everyone that can call the mad Captain John Pardal a friend let alone Jack Sparrow."

"You're going back to Jack Sparrow then?"

Jack shrugged. "The world does not yet know Jack Sparrow."

"But they will," Julian interjected with a wicked grin.

"Aye, they shall. They will know me and fear me soon enough."

WWW

"Jack? Jack! Calm down, you bloody pirate! Tell me what's wrong!" Norrington commanded, moving to Jack's side as the man lay pale gasping in sweat drenched sheets. Norrington hadn't known before why he had stayed to watch over the older man's rest as he would a small child, but now he was glad he had.

"A dream but not a dream. A nightmare," Jack gasped; his dark eyes wide and unblinking into the night. Norrington was suddenly very glad that there was no moon tonight for if Jack was forcibly reminded of his own state under the curse at this moment in time so soon after a nightmare had loosed its claws, Norrington had no doubt he would surely lose whatever sanity he had left to him. "But not a nightmare," Jack continued breathlessly. "Real. By all the gods in heaven and hell it was so real. He's coming."

"Who? Who's coming, Jack?" Norrington asked, laying a hand on the pirate's shoulder in an attempt to calm him. Jack shook off the touch but answered anyway.

"Barbossa. Barbossa's coming for me."

Norrington tried not to scoff but it was hard. "Barbossa's dead, Jack. He's been dead for over a year now. You know this. You killed him yourself."

"Aye, I put a bullet through his mutinous heart," Jack agreed. "He comes all the same."

"You can't honestly believe that, Jack. People aren't simply miraculously raised from the dead—" Norrington was cut off by Jack's sardonic glare. Norrington shook it off and continued. This was preposterous. "You were already cursed when you were killed, Jack. That is how you did not die. Barbossa died without the curses' influence. He died a man and mortal, Jack. There is no coming back from that. He's dead. It was just a nightmare."

Jack shook his head again. "No. The nightmare is just beginning."

WWW

Hector Barbossa wasn't sure of much in his new life, but he did know this: he had been given a reprieve out of hell and he fully intended to take advantage of it. He knew he had a job to do; he knew he was set forth to avenge his own death on his former captain, but that was secondary in his mind. Maybe he was supposed to have been a mindless zombie with nothing else driving him but the need to kill Jack Sparrow, but for him that wasn't the case. He had his own wants and desires. He had his own needs. For the first time in ten godforsaken years he was whole again. He was a living, breathing man once more after what had seemed an eternity. Perhaps it had been. He had no recollection whatsoever as to how much time had passed since he had lay dying on a blanket of gold and silver with a bullet lodged in his heart; he had no idea what Jack had done to anger such powerful gods during that time either although he wasn't surprised that the man had. Jack Sparrow could drive the pope to hell after he had damned himself by wanting to commit murder against him. Jack Sparrow was the stone in your boot, the water in your wine. Barbossa knew all this and more firsthand, and yet he didn't feel inclined to kill him. Not yet, anyway. He had far too much to do and far too little time to do it in.

"Do you understand what it is that you're to do, Barbossa?" a voice hissed at him from all sides.

Barbossa snorted. "I don't bloody care who you are! I'm not some snot-nosed cabin boy that needs to be told to tie his own boots every other minute!" he growled. He had been about to go on another tirade when he felt an unseen hand grip his tanned throat tightly.

"You belong to us, Barbossa. Do not forget it. You are but an insignificant worm compared to our might. We could crush you without trying. You are nothing but a means to an end." Barbossa was released and sent sprawling to the ground, rocks and sharp edges of gold coins digging into his palms as he braced his fall. He bit his lip until he could taste his own blood but he didn't otherwise do anything against the enemy he could not see nor touch. He simply regained his feet and stood up straight, ignoring the fact that blood seemed to be coating his fingers as his torn hands hung at his sides limply.

"Now we'll ask you again. Do you understand what we want from you?"

"Yes," Barbossa answered without hesitation.

_Kill…_

_Sparrow…_

_For us…_

He knew what he had to do.

WWW

Botany Bay, England 1678

Hector Barbossa was not an ordinary man. He had known this simple fact ever since he had been a boy. He was destined for great things. This, he knew without a doubt. His ambition had always outsoared his common sense, but that's not to say he didn't have a good dose of that as well. He knew when to bet and when to fold; he knew when to show his hand and when to play things close to the vest. One thing he did not know however at 30 years of life on this earth was where he was going next. He had initially wanted to go into politics or the like-the mantle of power sat welcomed upon his shoulders-but as the second son of a mere goldsmith he had learned the hard realisation that your station in life was all you had. If you wanted to get _anywhere_ then you had to learn to do things for yourself; learn to look out for yourself. This was why, at age 30; Hector Barbossa had decided to become a pirate.

Anyone he considered worthy enough to hear of his ambitions called him a fool. _You're too old_, they'd said. _You'll get yourself killed or hung within a month. Become a goldsmith like your father and grandfather. That's who you are, Hector. You're no pirate. _

He told himself not to listen; not to doubt his own worth, but it was hard. What did he know about being a pirate anyway? Surely he would make a comfortable living following in his family's footsteps even if his older brother was already doing the same? In fact, he had been working the trade so long with no other option in sight that he knew for a fact that he could become a successful goldsmith. In fact, some would say he already was one. But that wasn't what he wanted. He longed to travel to distant lands and see incredible things. He had lived in England all of his life and had tired of it when he had still been a boy. He had tried to run off then but his father's iron grip and his mother's sorrowful pleadings had kept him where he stood. But now he was more than a grown man he would no longer be stopped. He had wanted to leave years ago, but his mother's illness had kept him here just as her worry for her youngest son had all those years ago. But now she was dead and it was time to leave. He would find his way onto whatever ship that would take him, and he knew that he would become the greatest pirate the world had ever known.

WWW

Kenworthy, England 1678

Five years. Five years it had been since he had stepped foot on the familiar shores of his home town. Jack marveled at utter lack of change in the quiet town around him. It was as if no time had passed at all. Everything was exactly as he had remembered it, from the smell of the shipyards to the calls of the fish wives trying to sell their wares. _The town may not have changed but I have,_ Jack thought, pulling his cloak more closely around his face. He knew he shouldn't be here, but he hadn't been able to stay away. The Hangman's Knuckles was gone, handed over to his first mate Julian Rusgrove without fuss. The men would take to him as they had their former captain, and Jack had no doubt in his mind that Julian would make his own stories; bring forth new fears. Jack did not begrudge him that. In fact, he knew that if and when he heard of the dark tales of the Hangman's Knuckles under her fierce captain Rusgrove, he wouldn't be able to keep a smile from his face. That was Julian's story to write now. Jack was ready to start a new chapter for himself somewhere else, and what better place for a new beginning than the place of _his _beginning?

Jack was staring so aptly at the seemingly unchanged place of his birth that he nearly ran a man through without thinking as he startled him out his thoughts by bumping into him. In fact, Jack had the man's shirt front in a fist and a dagger already in his hand before he froze as he took in the man's startled features. _It can't be. _

"I'm-I'm sorry, sir. Do forgive me for being clumsy. It won't happen again, I assure you," the man hastily stuttered, his green eyes growing wide as he took note of the dagger out of its sheath at Jack's side. It was funny; the sight of it seemed to bolster his confidence. "You young ruffian, do you have any idea who I am?"

"Magistrate Donnellson," Jack whispered absently, still completely confounded as to just who had nearly run him over mere moments after he had set foot in town. "Richard," he further murmured.

Magistrate Donnellson looked at him askance as if trying to see through the scarf Jack had wrapped around his face. "Why yes, that is who I am. Now I would consider putting the knife away young man before I have you arrested. I understand that I startled—" the man was cut off as Jack held the blade at his throat.

"Now you listen hear, _Magistrate._ I don't bloody care who you are. Deign to tell me what to do again and you'll be breathing your own blood, savvy?"

The man blinked at the use of the unfamiliar word but got the gist of what Jack was trying to say. "I understand," he said grudgingly, wanting to argue but at a clear disadvantage with a naked blade held tightly against his throat. Then he thought of his beautiful wife Eva and their two children Edward and Eliza and held his tongue. He would do what this young brigand ordered, but not before marking his face for later judgement. From what he could see above the dirtied rag covering the majority of his face his antagonist had rich brown eyes and a noble forehead. Richard could also make out a lock of hair as black as pitch curling around the young man's cheek as well. As he was taking in what he could of the young man's features, something sparked in his mind. Some fragment of memory dusty and worn from disuse was suddenly forced into working again. "Edward?" the name was past his lips before he had time to think upon it. "Is it you?" He longed to reach and pull the mask away but as the knife blade pressed even harder against his throat he didn't dare.

Jack froze. _Edward? I haven't been called that since…_ He didn't entertain the thought. It was in the past. He shouldn't have come here. He should have kept away. "_Edward_ is dead, Richard," he hissed. "He has been since he left this accursed place." With that, Jack ran, leaving his stunned brother-in-law to gape in his wake.

WWW

"You've been silent for some time now, Jack. What are you thinking upon?" Elizabeth asked him softly, Norrington turning to hear Jack's answer as well.

"I'm remembering things I do not care to remember," Jack murmured, walking past them both to the waters edge and staring out into the sea.

"Tell us, Jack. Don't keep such things to yourself when they are clearly weighing heavily upon your soul," Elizabeth whispered. She and Norrington had been trying to convince Jack all morning that Barbossa remained dead and rotting in the Isle de Muerta, but Jack would hear none of it, insisting that he was coming. And now, Jack would not leave the shore, looking for something they did not believe was coming.

"Did you know that I captained Kruler's ship after I killed him?" Jack asked to the sea itself although clearly addressing the both of them as well.

Norrington frowned. "If I remember correctly, someone by the name of Pardal captained the ship after Kruler's death." Norrington hesitated, realisation dawning. "Pardal. That was you."

Jack shrugged. "I never was one for originality," he murmured in self-depreciation. "Pardal is sparrow in Portuguese."

"If…memory serves, you were only captain of the ship for 3 years," Norrington said delicately.

"You…were Captain John Pardal?" Elizabeth asked incredulously, not believing her ears.

"Yes. I was. Earned quite a reputation for myself under that name as well," Jack said bitterly, glaring out into the sea as if it were her fault all these things had happened. Perhaps it was.

"You were worse than Kruler ever was," Norrington said distantly, and if Jack's ears weren't tricking him, the former commodore pulled his sword from the sheath at his belt. Jack didn't turn.

"It won't do any good, son," Jack whispered. "I'm already dead, remember? Stabbing me in the back isn't going to solve anything. But you're more than welcome to try if you think it will make you feel better."

"James, don't," Elizabeth pleaded gently, laying a hand on Norrington's arm. "It's in the past."

Jack's eyes drifted shut at her words. "Elizabeth. My wronged champion. You shouldn't defend me, love. I don't deserve it."

"Do you regret the things you've done?" Norrington asked many minutes later. Jack hadn't heard the sword slide back into its sheath, so it must have remained in his hand as he asked.

"Every day of my existence," Jack whispered fervently. "The things I've done… I deserve to be damned."

"That is not for me to judge," Norrington answered him, sliding the sword back into the sheath at his belt with quick rasp of metal on metal.

Jack did turn to look at him then, not believing his ears. "So says Commodore Norrington, scourge of pirates everywhere."

"I'm no more Commodore Norrington than you are Captain Pardal," Norrington insisted softly. "I'm just a man, Jack. I should have never allowed myself to become judge, jury and executioner. I have my own sins to atone for."

Jack snorted and turned back out to sea. "I wouldn't be too hard on yourself mate. Most of the men you hanged bloody deserved a hell of a lot worse."

_"Most_ of them. Not all," Norrington continued. "There were men I killed who didn't deserve it. I won't call them innocents because I don't believe there are any true innocents in this world, but many of them did not deserve the death I handed them."

"Say what you like. We can compare sins until Judgement if you want. I'll not stop you, only say this; you would have _never_ done the things I've done, James. You're far too honourable for that."

"And if you were as dishonourable as you claim, you wouldn't be regretting your sins now, Jack," Norrington refuted.

"Are you two quite finished?" Elizabeth interrupted, "Because if you are, I would like to participate in the discussion as well. I think you are both two of the most foolish men I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. You both spend so long bemoaning your past sins that you look right past the good you both have done. James, how many people have you saved in preventing those men you've brought to justice from walking the earth? Have you even considered that? And Jack—"

Jack cut her off with a bitter laugh. "Don't be saying that I was actually doing good when I killed all those innocent people just to further my own name. I already told you I don't deserve you defending me. And after what I did to you, you should be the first in line to send me to the noose, Miss Swann."

"You saved my life, Jack," Elizabeth said firmly, disregarding Jack's attempts to make her hate him once more. "In the cave, when Barbossa was going to shoot me. You hardly knew who I was and yet you saved my life."

"Don't lie to yourself, Elizabeth. I was taking my revenge against Barbossa. Saving you was merely a coincidence."

"I don't believe that," Elizabeth argued. "You could have let him kill me before you took your shot. There was no risk to you. You killed Barbossa mere moments before he could have killed me. That's more than a coincidence."

Jack shook his head, his eyes once more following the rolling of the ocean waves and the way his beloved Pearl rode upon them. "Believe what you like, Elizabeth," he said softly. It was too late to convince her that he wasn't a good man. She had already paid the price for that delusion.

WWW

Kenworthy, England 1678

"I am telling you Eva, it was him. It was Edward," Richard insisted, the backs of his ears flushing as his wife refused to believe him.

"And I still stay I don't believe you. John would never do something like that," Eva Marie Lynette Donnellson, only sister to Captain Jack Sparrow, argued.

"He held a knife to my throat!" Richard argued. "He's not your brother any longer!"

"Richard, hush! You're disturbing Mother," Eva hissed at him.

"Oh don't worry yourself, dear. I'm fine," Katrina Sperling insisted softly. "I don't know who you ran into today Richard, but like Eva I don't believe it was Edward. My son is dead, Richard. He was killed with his cousin Sebastian when their ship was taken. I don't care what people say about him. He died an innocent; a good man."

Richard shook his head. "I know you like to think that, Mother, but I assure you I saw him. Now it might have been a misunderstanding, he might have only threatened me because he felt threatened himself, but I do not believe so. He acted as a man used to treating others in such a manner."

"Come now, Richard. You can't honestly believe that. You known John almost as well as I do. Surely you don't believe that he could do such things," Eva argued with a frown.

"I known only this, Eva darling, I intend to find out once and for all what really happened to your brother with or without your consent. I do not wish to anger you or your mother, but I need to know what happened to him, and if need be bring him to justice. It is my job, Eva."

"Your _job_ is to help hold our family together, Richard. How can you possibly do that when you're speaking of arresting my brother?"

"He's a wanted man, Eva! I know you don't like to hear these things, but Edward has been condemned a criminal almost as long as he's been gone. You've heard the stories as well as I."

"And yet you're the one who is so eager to believe them. Why is that, Richard? What do you have against my brother?"

Richard took a calming breath and ran a hand over his shoulder length red hair. He loved his wife very much and did not want to fight with her, but she was blinded when it came to her brother. "I'm going to find him, Eva, Mrs. Sperling. I'm going to find out what has happened to him. I will give him a chance to explain his actions, but I'm still going to confront him."

"And what of us? What of your children while you're away chasing a brother who I have already accepted as lost? What then, Richard? Would you just leave us to look after ourselves?"

"What would you have me do, Eva? He threatened me, a magistrate and his brother-in-law. He held a knife to my throat knowing just who and what I was! Do you understand that? It didn't stop him in the least! How many other people has he threatened, or _killed_ since he's been away? He needs to be stopped, Eva."

"He's my broth—"

"Stop this, both of you," Katrina's firm order halted her warring children. She turned to her daughter first. "You know how much I love your bother, Eva. You know how much it devastated me to find that he had…died like your father."

"Of course I do, Mama," Eva whispered. She did know some of what her mother felt for she felt it too. Although she had only been two years old when her father had been lost at sea, it had still been a crushing blow.

Katrina nodded sadly. "Yes, but I must also confess that since his death I have…doted on Edward more than I should. He is my only son and as his mother I…may have turned a blind eye to some things." She hastened to raise a hand to override Eva's objections. "Let me finish, my dear. I'm not saying that I believe all the horrible things that have been said about your brother; that he has turned pirate himself and captains a ship of murderers and thieves, I just don't believe that. I don't believe someone can change that much in only five years. But I need to know for sure, Eva. Do you understand that? If your brother really is alive, then why hasn't he come home to us? Why has he been gone all these years? Has he been a prisoner? Has he…done the things people have said about him? We can't know until we've seen him or proved him dead. I need peace one way or another Eva, please try and understand that."

Eva nodded after some hesitation. "I understand, Mother."

Katrina continued. "That is why I want to allow Richard the chance to go through with his plan. I need you to find my son, Richard. Please. Bring him back to me if he lives, and bring me back proof of his passing if he doesn't. A mother must know what has befallen her only son. Find him for me, Richard."

"I'll do my best, Mrs. Sperling. You have my word," Richard answered solemnly. He knew what he had to do.

WWW

Hector Barbossa couldn't help but frown to see that the Black Pearl hadn't changed in the least since he had been…away. He had hoped that somehow she had gone under some magnificent undertaking; that she had become whole once more with her deck polished and her dark sails whole and clean. But this? She looked exactly as she had under the curse. Surely Captain Jack Sparrow of all people would have taken better care of her than this.

He pushed such questions aside. He would be sure to ask his former captain and friend the question before he killed him.

TBC

A/N: Whoa, I'm not kidding I wrote this chapter in oh, four days. Heh. I hope you liked it despite that! Lol

Reviewer Response Section

Neon Daises-First of all, thanks for going over the chapter before posting! Yeah, hidden story lines…those are a bother. Like this one with Richard. Where the heck did that come from? You know what? I have no idea either.

FalconWing-Yeah, poor Jack's in a bit of a bind. It seems that everyone's after him in some way or another. Oh well. I'm sure he'll come out on top. Or dead. Just kidding! Probably…

Otherhawk- Oh, it's ok that you haven't reviewed in awhile. As long as you're still reading that's almost good enough for me. ;-) As yes, I did kill the whelp. Yeah, well he had to die. I didn't necessarily want to do it, but I felt I had to. His place in the story was becoming redundant and I wanted to find out how the dynamic would shift with him gone. I still haven't made my mind up about that last one. Thanks so much for the lines about Gillette. I knew he had to die, and I didn't want to go into too much detail because honestly, I really just wanted him dead. lol. Sorry this couldn't be up sooner for you!

Holliday1081-I am having a lot of fun writing the flashbacks. Tell me if I start to go overboard. ;-) I'm having even more fun writing Norry. I love him to pieces. -D It is incredibly crowded in Jack's head, but not so much in this chapter. I think they were all taking a day off and letting the flashbacks run free. Hee I'm having fun writing Barbossa too. Heck, I'm just plain having fun! I'm glad you are too.

AJB-More Barbossa for you. Hope you know what you're asking for. ;-)

Lynx-Ok, I love your reviews. Have I said this enough lately? You're the best. -D And yes, I am the Angst Queen.

JohnnDEPPmaniac-Oh I think it's possible. I live for complications. Lol

Jigglykat-Lori and Barbie –SNARF- Ok, I cracked up for about a full minute after that one. Thanks for the review! I'm sorry this couldn't be updated sooner.

Padme17-Lol. Well I'm sorry I couldn't get this up sooner. Barbossa did come to me however, and told me to write him into the story even more than what I had been originally planning. And there you have it.

Brave Symbol-Seriously, deliciously twisted eh? –beams- Thanks-D Sorry you couldn't have a holiday between the posting of this chapter too. Sorry.

xkohleyesx-Wow a new reviewer! I think. Thank you so much for the review! I'm glad you're liking my story!

Arenas-I'm glad you like where this is going, you cookie fiend you. Oh wait, or is that me? Anyway, thanks for the review!

Mistress of Destruction-Oh no, I love comedy almost as much as I love angst. I love…angsty comedy. Yeah, that's it. Glad you like the chapter! There will be more of the dynamic bumbling pirate duo next chapter!

WOW. 13 reviews? You people spoil me. Thank you so much!

-Merrie


	14. Chapter 13: Horrors and Histories

A Gilded Cage: Sequel to Broken Wings, Part II of the Fallen Sparrows Trilogy

A Pirates of the Caribbean story by Merrie

Disclaimer: Jack, Norry, Liz, Lorelac, Barbossa and all others own me. I would never attempt to claim otherwise.

Summary: As a battle is waged for Jack's soul by all the angels of heaven and all the demons in hell with Barbossa as their warrior, will our Sparrow be able to see a way out of the gilded cage that surrounds him before all is lost?

Characters: Captain Jack Sparrow, Chief James Norrington, Elizabeth Swann, Magistrate Richard Donnellson, Hector Barbossa, Lorelac and various others.

Author's Note: I haven't forgotten about this story, nor will I ever. I'm sorry this took so long to get up. I don't really have a good excuse, so here's the chapter.

Rating: R for violence and language.

Chapter 13: History and Horror

Thorneheart, England 1678

Black. It had to be black. He wasn't entirely sure about the rest of it, but he knew it had to be black. Black as the devil's heart. Black as the space behind the stars. Black wood, black sails, black everything. He didn't have a crew, he didn't have a name, but he knew what he wanted his ship to be. _Black. It has to be black. Something to terrorise men's souls. Something out of a nightmare. _Jack stared out over the rolling waves and imagined his dark beauty prowling on them, swiftly and easily pouncing upon her prey, leaving no survivors in her path. _She's got to be the fastest ship in the sea. She will be the fastest ship in the sea._

"Sir? Sir?" A withered old man's voice cut into his dark musings like a rusty and dull blade. Jack turned to him but didn't speak. The wizened man was blind and while Jack might have tried to have a bit of fun with him, the man's ears were impeccable and could sense his every movement. "Have you decided, sir?"

Jack nodded, not bothering to say yes. Annoyed that his fun had been thwarted by the man's exceptional hearing, Jack was determined to get his kicks in in whatever manner he could. The old man seemed undaunted by this which only served to irritate Jack further. He would have just killed him had he not been so good at what he did.

"Very good, sir. And?" the man prompted.

"Black," Jack growled grudgingly.

"Black?" the man asked with a raised eyebrow over one white-filmed blue eye.

"Everything. I want everything black. Even the sails. And she has to be fast," Jack said sternly.

"Oh I assure you, Captain. She _will_ be fast. I don't design slow ships."

Jack's eyes narrowed into dark slits. He did not like being second guessed. Especially when he was making recommendations about _his_ ship. "She will be the fastest ship you've ever built, nay the fastest ship _anyone_ has ever built or you'll regain your sight in hell after I send you there."

Balthazar Curtail had been blind for many years, but not the length of his long life. He had seen things in this world that he would never forget. Now that he was blind those long-ago images crystallised within his mind to an unbelievably clear clarity that allowed him to continue his work relatively unaided. He could envision every detail within the ship he was designing as if he were looking at it. More often than not, he could do the same with the ship's owner as well. The way a man designed a ship gave much insight into his character to those who knew how to look for such things, and Balthazar knew. He had always known. When he was a younger man with two working eyes he would sometimes be able to guess just what kind of ship he would be asked to build just from the captain'sappearance and personality. Those days were gone now but still fresh in his mind. He was no longer able to see what types of men he was working for, so he had to rely on their orders. The man he was dealing with now-Captain Sparrow he introduced himself as-was not a man to be taken lightly. He was a man who valued power and presence above all else and would do anything to have these desires realised.

"You're ship will be as you have ordered, Captain," he said, trying not to sound as meek and frightened as he felt, but not quite managing it. Something in the man's voice unsettled him. It wasn't the threat-he had heard worse in his time-it was the way he said it. It was the way there was no hint of doubt in his voice that belied his intentions. He really would go through with his threat if not well satisfied that his orders were being completed. _He is a pirate. You should not be dealing with him. He will only bring you trouble, _his conscience warned him. He wanted to listen, but he found he could not say no to this man. He was completely convinced that if he did his life would soon be forfeit.

Jack nodded; glad the old man hobbled over before him wasn't doing something that would force him to be killed. There were far too few good shipsmiths around to go killing them left and right. And the real fear he heard in the old man's voice made him smile coldly. _At least he's smart. He should fear me._

"And…does this ship have a name, Captain? I would like to know what to call her as I'm building her. That is…if you don't mind, I mean," the man hastened to add.

Jack allowed himself the luxury of a frown since he knew the old man's filmy eyes couldn't make it out. The truth was, he hadn't come up with anything yet. Well anything besides the black part. _The Black Death? It certainly has the sense of looming doom, but no, not enough grace. I need a name that will inspire both fear and deadly beauty at the same time. But what?_

"Captain?" Balthazar prompted gently, thinking Jack hadn't heard.

Jack scowled. He hated being rushed. "The Black….Pearl."

WWW

"You're out of your bloody mind! Get the hell away from me!" Norrington yelled, backing warily across the sand away from his right-hand man and interpreter, Kiquan.

"Chief, it must be this way. It is the way of our people. It is the way of our chief. You are our chief," Kiquan insisted with a resigned sigh, moving closer towards his skittish chief.

"I don't care who I bloody am! I'm not doing it!" Norrington asserted.

"Honestly, mate. It's not that bad. I've survived quite a few of them myself," Jack spoke up silently with a shrug. His speech had almost regained its playfulness but there was a tightness around his eyes and tension in his shoulders that belied his real mood.

"I say if James doesn't want to through with it he shouldn't have to," Elizabeth ventured softly, not quite as depressed-looking as Jack was, but not by much.

"Exactly, and as your chief I'm telling you not to do this. Back away from me with that needle, you savage! Back!" Norrington commanded.

Kiquan's sighs turned into laughter and the growing group of villagers that surrounded them joined in. "Chief, you are quite amusing, but this is what must be done. You are our chief, and this is our tradition." He moved in as close as Norrington would allow while he kept the needle and pot of ink his hands, whispering. "I do not think it wise for you to go against this, my chief. There are few still who do not accept your leadership. They see your hesitance in this act as a form of cowardice. You do understand?"

Norrington gritted his teeth, but he nodded. He did understand. He understood the concept of not blinking in the face of danger; of not flinching beneath your enemy's gaze. And it was only a tattoo for god's sake. It wasn't the end of the world. But…it some ways, it was. This was it. If he did this, if he let himself be marked as their chief permanently, then his old life was really over. His days in the military would truly be at an end. He had hoped-it was a small hope but he had it none the less-that one day he might be able to go back there. That one day he might be able to regain what had been taken from him. He couldn't live as a civilian any more than Jack could stop being a pirate. But unlike Jack, he lacked the luxury of choice. He could not simply choose to go back to the Navy simply because he wanted to. That door was closed to him now. He had to admit that to himself or he would never be able to move on. He saw that, but he didn't like it. He didn't want to move on. He wanted to go back to where he was. Before everything had changed. And yet… And yet. As he looked across the expectant faces of the people in the village, _his_ people, he couldn't help but feel pride in knowing that he was their leader. That they looked to him-a foreigner, a _stranger_-for guidance and wisdom. That…he still couldn't fully understand that.

"James? James are you alright?" Elizabeth's soft voice broke into his thoughts. "You truly don't have to get a tattoo if you don't want to. No one is going to force you into anything. I won't let them."

Norrington almost smiled to hear a glimpse of her fire again. "I'm fine, Elizabeth. I was just thinking."

"Well are you going to get the tattoo or not, mate? Because honestly, there are better things that I could be doing right now than staying to watch this," Jack cut in.

Kiquan and the rest of the village looked at Norrington expectantly, many with hope in their eyes that somehow this would be the one thing that truly bound this pale foreigner to them, and others not hiding their antagonism that such a thing should ever be allowed to take place. Norrington took note of those watchers, knowing he would either have to win them over or fight them one day. He couldn't afford detractors, nor would he put up with them. This was all he had left. He had accepted that now. He didn't fully like it-he never would-but these were_ his_ people. They had been from the beginning. Why else would he have fought for them? Why else would he have given up all he had known in Port Royal for their safety? He wouldn't have. Not if he didn't care for them.

Kiquan must have seen some of what Norrington was thinking pass across his features because he nodded and turned to some of the most outspoken detractors. "He will do this for us. He will become our chief in body as well as spirit."

The cheer that erupted from the gathered crowd was nothing short of ground shaking. Norrington couldn't help but gasp at the sheer force of it, not fully knowing until now the full impact this gesture had on the people of his island. "Yes. I'll do it. You have my word as…as your chief." He tried not to sound as nervous as he felt, but he must not have been entirely successful for Elizabeth rose from her seat on a swollen log and walked over to pat his arm and give him a quick kiss on the cheek. Norrington felt his face colouring and couldn't help but ask, "What was that for, Elizabeth?"

"For doing the right thing, James. I'm proud of you," she whispered with a small smile.

"Don't be too sure of him yet, Lizzie. He still has to get the tattoo," Jack murmured, looking down at his tattoo-covered hand and arm, clearly envisioning all the evil it had brought them. It would remain for the rest of his life as a grim reminder of what he had done. It made him want to rip his skin off.

"Jack," Elizabeth called out softly, moving to stand at his side while he sat in the sand with Norrington following at her elbow as if attached. "It wasn't your fault." The weight of her statement clearly belied that she was talking about more than one occurrence. But what? Her rape? The murder of her fiancé? It was all his fault.

"Thanks for sayin', Lizzie, but I don't believe you. It was my fault. All of it."

"How can you say that? How can you even think it? You were not yourself, Jack. You were possessed by a demon!" Her voice came out in a harsh hiss, but she wasn't really angry with him. She was angry at Lorelac and the suffering he had caused them. Her rape…Will's murder… Norrington's hand… She blinked back tears. _Not to mention the loss of Jack's crew. That's what started this mess. And god, he had to bury them all. _She wanted to feel more sympathy for Jack because of that, but her own grief made it hard. Her fiancé was dead and while she was pregnant they would never be Will's children. Will was gone. The realisation no longer brought tears, just a sick hollow in her chest that used to be filled with his love. She couldn't do this without him. How could she have ever thought otherwise? People said she was strong; that she knew how to look after herself. Well even the strong need someone to hold them up sometimes, and who did she have? Will was gone.

"Elizabeth? Are you alright?" Norrington asked softly, seeing her distress. "Forgive me. It was a foolish question. Of course you're not. I am sorry."

Elizabeth shook her head at the question, softly surprised. It was as if he had been hearing her thoughts. James had always been there for her. How had she forgotten? He loved her. He always had. "No. It wasn't a foolish question, James," she assured him quietly. "Thank you." Norrington inclined his head in a nod and she went on. "I'm…surviving," she said softly. "I think it's all I can do, really. It's only been a few weeks since he's gone I know, but I still find myself looking for his figure along the shoreline. I still expect to wake up to find he's left flowers outside my door. I miss him, James. And yet, I haven't quite let myself believe that he's really gone."

Norrington frowned and held out a hand to pat her shoulder gently in a silent gesture of comfort. He would have offered more, he would have offered her anything, but it wouldn't have been right. She knew this as well as he did which was why he was so surprised when she pressed herself against him, burying her head beneath his chin and wrapping her arms around his waist. He made a soft sound of surprise before giving into the hug, looking over the top of her head to meet Jack's eyes. The look that passed between them was weighted, although no words were spoken. He could see Jack's anguish in watching this; he knew it was as sharp and bright as Elizabeth's was. And yet while Elizabeth was hopefully able to find a small measure of comfort in his arms, Jack would never find the same. He would bear his sins alone. Norrington understood that because it was what he would have done had he been in Jack's place.

"It will be alright, Elizabeth," Norrington whispered to her, awkwardly wrapping his arms around her in continuation of the embrace. If this was what she needed from him, then he wouldn't deny it to her. "I know it doesn't seem that way now, but it will be. It's only natural to miss Will. You loved him. But he is with you, Elizabeth. And he always will be."

Elizabeth nodded into Norrington's chest, not able to stop her tears. She was so tired of being strong. She was so tired of pitying looks the women in the village gave her as she passed. The looks would be worse now of course, but she didn't care. She had missed the comfort only a man could bring. Oh how she wished those arms holding her tightly could have been Will's. She wished that with all her heart. But they weren't. She wasn't naïve. She knew in whose arms she took comfort. She didn't close her eyes and dream that it was Will who held her close. She knew better, and she would not use Norrington in that way. He didn't deserve it. So she pulled away from him, looking up and giving him a watery smile as she tried to collect herself again. "Thank you." She looked down when he smiled and saw that she had left a rather large wet spot on the front of his shirt. "Oh I'm sorry, James. I didn't mean to cry all over your shirt. I was just being foolish—"

"No you weren't," Norrington interrupted her gently. "You have every right to feel grief for your loss, Elizabeth. No one would think ill of you if you missed him."

"I do miss him, James. I miss him every day," she admitted softly.

Jack had been listening to the exchange in silence, not daring to interrupt. Especially when he was the cause for all of Elizabeth's grief. He had killed Will. He had taken him from her side. He had destroyed her happiness in more ways that one. He had burdened her with a child and then killed the one man who would have stood by her side and married her in spite of everything. _Why doesn't she hate me? Why hasn't she killed me?_ Jack had no answers for those questions. He himself had killed men for fewer affronts than the ones he had afflicted on her. He didn't understand it. He couldn't understand how she could forgive him so easily. He couldn't fathom how she gained the strength to go on.

"That is to be expected, Elizabeth," Norrington assured her with a small smile. "I know you miss him. We all miss him. He was an honest man and a good friend. We were all fortunate to have known him."

"You are talking about your fallen friend, Mr. Turner, correct?" Kiquan interjected gracefully. He continued after Norrington and Elizabeth had nodded. "He was a good man. There was much light in his path." He sent a surreptitious glance in Jack's direction. "Some have more light than others."

If Jack had heard the comment at least in part directed to him, he gave no sign. He simply sat and started off into the distance, his hands clasped upon his lap, his fingers toying idly with his rings. He didn't seem to be hearing any of them, but none of them had any doubt that he had heard every word they had been saying. That didn't seem to be the case now as his eyes glazed over and he was lost to his memories.

WWW

Thorneheart, England 1679

It had taken a year and much blood and sweat but ship was finally finished. The Black Pearl was finally finished. And all saints in heaven, she was beautiful. Her black sails billowed in the wind majestically, and Jack knew just by looking at her that his life would forever be entwined with that of this ship. His blood would be spilled upon her deck; his breath would float up to her sails. She was his and he was hers. She would never belong to another man.

"She's a beautiful ship," a voice interrupted in on Jack's thoughts. "Is she yours or do you just wish she was?"

Jack turned to the man who had dared doubt that the Pearl was anyone's but his and sent him a scathing look, not bothering to comment.

"I take she's yours then. What do you call her?" the man asked roughly, casting his eyes upon the Pearl with something akin to lust. Jack didn't like it.

"The Black Pearl," he said in clipped tones, not wanting to talk to this intrusive man any longer than necessary.

"The Black Pearl," the man repeated slowly, savouring the name as if it were a decadent sweet. "And who are you lad to be captain of such a ship?"

Jack sent a seething glare in the man's direction, disliking him immediately, and not only for the 'lad' quip, although that was a large part of it. There was just something about this man that sent a prickle of malcontent up his spine. And yet, there was something intriguing about the man as well; something that stayed Jack's sword from finding a sheath in the stranger's flesh. "My name is Captain Jack Sparrow."

"I've never heard of you." Jack reconsidered running the man through. "But I haven't been a pirate for very long so I suppose you could say that is a slight on me."

Jack grunted. He might have asked how the man knew that he was a pirate, but he wasn't an idiot. He knew how he looked. He knew that only the dimmest of fools would take him for anything but what he was. "You never told me your name, mate," he pointed out.

The stranger bowed. "How rude of me. My name is Barbossa. Hector Barbossa. I'm here to join your crew."

"And what makes you think I want you on my crew? Or even that I'm looking for one?" Jack asked with a smirk. He couldn't help but admire the man's arrogance.

"You're in a port known for its ship building, you're standing there looking her as if she's your firstborn, and I don't happen to notice anyone looking at her with you. Such a beauty clearly deserves some appreciation and yet only we two men are giving her any. It's a shame. And you need a crew."

Jack shrugged. The man had a point. A _good _point. He _did_ need a crew. He had some idea of who he could ask-men who had left the 'Knuckles when he had-but beyond that he was without men.

"Then that settles it. You'll be captain and I'll be first mate. We'll gain riches neither of us has ever dreamed of before," Barbossa said with a greedy gleam in his eye which Jack appreciated. It was good to have a man with ambition. Such men could be used and controlled as long as you had what they wanted.

"So be it. Welcome to the Black Pearl Mr. Barbossa."

WWW

Thorneheart, England 1679

It had been a year. A year spent without his wife, without his son, without his daughter. A year spent chasing someone who may not even exist. At first he had been so sure; so certain that the man he pursued was Edward John Corentin Alexandre Sperling himself, his brother-in-law, a man who was supposed to be nothing more than a ghost.

His green eyes grew hard as he surveyed the port. Edward had to be here. He had tracked his brother-in-law across the seas long enough to know them as well as many of the hardened sailors he had put into irons back home. He had heard the rumours, rumours of a pirate captain fitting Edward's description. A man by the name of Captain John Pardal. At first, Richard hadn't wanted to believe it. This man Pardal was a monster. The man he had met when he had first started courting Eva was a bookish shy scholar. He was no ruthless pirate.

"Are you looking for some company, darling?" A sultry voice interrupted his reveries.

Richard whirled at the voice, not able to hide his disgust as his eyes were assaulted by a lady of the night-a _whore_-in broad daylight. In _his_ city such a thing would have never been stood for. The people were decent there. The whores knew their place and stayed there. Order was upheld. He had been about to tell her off when he remembered his role. He was not Magistrate Donnellson here. He was a simple merchant searching for a friend. He had done everything he could to change his appearance to suit this new role-his skin was dirty, he was fairly sure he reeked of the sweat of men and his red beard was left to grow wild and scruff over his dirty face-but the man he was still screamed beneath the surface to be realised.

"From such a lovely lass as yourself a man is always looking for company." Betrayal. What of his darling Eva? "But I'm afraid I must decline this time. I am looking for someone and I fear I shall miss him if I allow myself to indulge in such…pleasures."

"Oh? And who's that, I wonder? Someone I might know?" the whore asked, seeming undaunted by the fact that he wasn't interested. He knew she must have a list of other 'clients' as long as the entire line of ships he saw moored in the port.

Richard frowned, his better nature prickling at the thought of getting information from such a person, but he nodded. Beggars couldn't be choosers and he had already been away from his wife and children for far too long. He had wanted to stop this little 'quest' months ago, but something wouldn't let him. If he was being honest with himself, it had become an obsession. He had become obsessed with finding out what had happened to his brother-in-law. At first he had been saddened for his wife and mother-in-law's sake, but he had never truly grieved as they had for Edward because in truth he had never really known him. Edward had always kept to himself, preferring the company of a book to that of other people. This was what made the stories he had heard about him even harder to believe.

At first he hadn't known where to begin. No one had heard of any man called Edward Sperling or even John Sperling-Richard had remembered how Edward hated being called by his first name-but their were rumours. Rumours that around the time of Edward's supposed death there had been a new member of the crew of the Hangman's Knuckles. That had been one of the first things he had striven to find out; what ship was responsible for attacking The Intrepid and supposedly killing Edward. It hadn't been too difficult a fact to come across. Apparently the crew of the ship had no such qualms about sharing every ill deed they had ever achieved to anyone who might be listening and often times to those who might not.

"I can't help you find who you're looking for if you won't tell me their name, dearie," the prostitute reminded him gently.

He winced at the grating sound of her voice. This was a mistake. He shouldn't be talking to her. He should be putting her in the stockade. "Nevermind. You probably wouldn't know him anyway."

"You'd be surprised at who I know. I could get to know you if only you would tell me who you're looking for," she drawled, moving a hand over his chest in a manner that was probably aimed to be seductive and yet only filled him with disgust. If the whore noticed she gave no sign.

Richard gritted his teeth but told himself to stop being foolish. If she could get him information on ending his search then why shouldn't he use her? "I'm looking for a member of the pirate ship The Hangman's Knuckles." The streetwalker stiffened at the name but nodded for him to go on. "I've heard rumours that the former captain of that ship was last seen in this port. I need to talk to him."

"Let me get this straight, you actually _want_ to talk to Captain John Pardal and you somehow think you'll come out alive afterwards? You're not as intelligent as you look, hon. No man who has ever sought out that crazy bastard has lived to tell the tale."

"Captain Pardal? That's the former captain's name?" It had been the first time he had ever heard his actual name mentioned. Every man he had ever talked to about the pirate captain had claimed he was some sort of demon sent straight from hell to devour the earth. He had never heard him referred as a flesh and blood man before.

"Yeah. That's his name. He must be a Spaniard with a name like that. They say Spaniards are all hot-blooded madmen anyway."

"Why do you say that? About him being a Spaniard I mean?" Richard asked curiously, hoping that he might be able to glean more information about the man he sought.

"I had a Spaniard for a client once. He taught me some of his native language. If I remember correctly, pardal means sparrow."

_Pardal means sparrow. Pardal is Sparrow. Sparrow is Sperling. Oh god. It can't be. _"Are you certain?" he asked harsher than he had intended. _She has to be wrong. I have to be wrong. Edward is dead. It wasn't him at the docks that day. It couldn't have been._ Richard knew he was lying to himself, he had heard the very words, _"Edward is dead, Richard. He has been since he left this accursed place,"_ echoing through his mind.

"Are you alright? Pardal didn't do something to you and yours did he? If he did I suggest you forget about it. I believe the stories I've heard about him and if I were you I'd stay far away." She turned to leave but Richard reached out to grab her arm, preventing her from making it but a few steps. "You have no call to treat me like that!" she hissed at him. "Now I've helped you. You can either let me go or you'll find this--" she produced a small dagger seemingly out of nowhere and held it between Richard's legs-"somewhere unpleasant. Do you understand me, hon?"

"Tell me where to find Captain Pardal and you're free to go on your way," Richard reasoned with her. "That's all I want."

The whore's grey eyes flashed at him, and for a brief second he was sure she wasn't going to tell him anything despite his plea and/or go through with her threat. He tried not to flinch as her hand twitched minutely between his legs, but couldn't help himself. They were at an impasse. He wasn't so disgusted with her profession that he would sink to the level of hitting a woman but he needed the information she clearly had. "Please," he added through gritted teeth, a muscle in his jaw clenching in frustration that it had come to this.

She looked at him a minute longer but pulled the dagger away from its place between his legs and returned it to wherever she had gotten it from. Richard didn't look to see where; he truly did not want t know. "The Crimson King," she said after he had released her arm in turn.

"What is that? Is it an inn? How do I get there?"

"If anyone knows where to find Captain Pardal, he'd be there. I still say you're a fool who's only going to get himself killed for asking about that man, but you're not a paying customer and I don't care about you." The look of mild concern held on her face belied her words. "The Crimson King is the red roofed building straight that way." She pointed. "Don't get yourself killed." With that she turned on a heel and left him to his search.

WWW

"Why on earth would _anyone_ get a tattoo? The things are damned painful!" Norrington complained for what seemed like the tenth time, his arm reaching around to itch at the cloth that been wrapped around his back and shoulder over the fresh tattoo he had just gotten. "And I can't even see what it bloody looks like! What is the point?"

"It makes you look very distinguished, my chief. Only our leaders have such markings. You are highly honoured." Kiquan turned and bowed to the men who had given Norrington the tattoo, murmured a few words in their native language before dismissing them. Norrington still hadn't quite mastered every bit of the decidedly complicated island language, but he thought that Kiquan was thanking the two men for their loyalty. Before he could ask what the men had actually said, Kiquan spoke again. "I did not ask them to give you these markings. I told them to give you whatever they saw fit to honour you with. And they did honour you, my chief. You are their leader now. They will follow you to the Kourikan Plane if you asked them."

"I see," Norrington said dully, not knowing what to say to that. He could tell from the way Kiquan's eyes were deadly serious behind his small spectacles that this was indeed a great honour, and he should treat it as such. "I am honoured, Kiquan. And if you say it makes me look…distinguished then I'll believe you."

Kiquan bowed again. "I will leave you to complete this gift, my chief. Should you need anything I won't be far." With that, he turned and walked back to his hut, presumably.

Once Kiquan was gone, Norrington turned to Jack and Elizabeth and frowned. "Be as honest as you must. What does it look like?"

"I think it suits you, mate. Makes you look less of the ponce you once were," Jack teased although his eyes were devoid of humour.

Norrington just grunted, although he somehow managed to make the gesture seem dignified and sophisticated. "While I thank you for your opinion Jack, that was not what I asked. I asked what it looks like. I can't see but what's on my shoulder, and I know that's not all of it." From what Norrington saw of his shoulder before the men had covered it up with strips of wet cloth, the tattoo was similar to that of Jack's. The one had had from Lorelac, that is. It was a series of twisting black lines that knotted themselves into something so complicated his eyes couldn't separate it. But unlike Jack's which went down his entire arms to the tips of his middle fingers, Norrington knew his wrapped around his back and over his shoulder blade. He knew that much from feeling it.

"It's as if you have a wing made out of black vines etched across your shoulder blade moving down your back, James. Kiquan was right. It does make you look distinguished. And…exotic," Elizabeth said softly. "Like you belong to them now."

Norrington raised an eyebrow, making a point of glancing at his still too-pale skin. He had always been fair, and except for the occasional sun burn leaving him as red as his former military uniform, he had always been that way.

Elizabeth shook her head gently, catching the meaning behind his look. "You obviously haven't seen yourself. And I'm not talking about the tattoo or your still fair skin. You've changed, James. This place has changed you. It's still changing you."

Norrington gave her a puzzled frown. "How do you mean?"

"You've gone native on us, mate. You're no Englishman any longer. You're one of them now," Jack said with a shrug. He didn't really care. There were worse things to be. Even if Norrington's people were so-called children of that bastard Lorelac.

"I was never an Englishman," Norrington murmured. "I was born in Port Royal."

"And now you're never going to go back there. Are you, mate?" Jack asked him curiously.

"I have nothing to go back to," Norrington said somberly. "But…but I don't know if I'm going to stay here either," he said in a low voice, not wanting to be overheard by the members of the village. "I miss the sea, Jack. I'm sure you of all people understand that."

"The sea is all I have left," Jack murmured distantly, looking down at his tattooed hand. If it had been night instead of the middle of the day, he would have been seeing his own bones as clear as day. He saw them now in his nightmares even without the aid of the moonlight.

"The sea is all any of us has left," Elizabeth answered. But that wasn't entirely true. Not for her, at least. She still had her father and Jack still had his ship. James had his people. But he was right. Port Royal wasn't there's anymore. Their home had been lost to them.

WWW

Port Royal

The city was in flames. The pirates had gotten loose and had practically ravaged the prosperous port, killing anyone who got in their way without consideration or hesitation. The military had tried to stop them, but how could one stop someone who couldn't be killed? Many men had shot the ravaging pirates, and yet none of them had stayed dead. They were surely demons. Port Royal had finally been met with God's wrath.

They had been fighting valiantly under the newly promoted Commodore Groves regardless, for what else could they do, but they were fighting a losing battle. And what was more, they knew it.

"Commodore sir, we must get these pirates out of our city!" One of the few remaining officers pleaded. "You know as well as I do that they have been touched by the devil himself and cursed to live eternally. We cannot stop them! They are destroying our city! The governor has already fled along with the admiral. There is no one left but what few men we have left and the townspeople who haven't fled in terror, sir. We must give the pirates what they want! It is our only hope of survival!" The officer's wig was tattered and blackened by smoke and gunpowder, and his once pristine uniform torn and wrinkled, his life was surely at risk, and yet he had stayed. He knew, as Commodore Groves himself knew, that to flee the city was to abandon it forever to the raging pirates. That was unacceptable.

"We can't give them what they want, Kent. You know we can't," Commodore Groves said tiredly. They were in a lull of battle for time being, but neither man had any delusion that it would last.

"Sir, Theodore, they cannot be killed. We cannot beat them," the officer said softly. He was no longer pleading though. Although Theodore Groves hadn't been Commodore long-only since they had discovered the former Commodore Gillette murdered in his own office-he had made his policies and attitudes clear. He would not abandon this fight no matter the cost.

"Better we die protecting our city than to sell it to these brigands," Groves said between clenched teeth. "I will not surrender, Thomas. You know I won't."

"I know you won't, sir. But I had to try," Captain Thomas Kent said softly. There was dejection and hopelessness in his voice, but when he raised his eyes to meet Grove's, his gaze was clear and determined. He would stand and fight. "My place is at your side, sir. We will protect Port Royal with our lives if need be."

"Good," Groves said with a nod, clapping the other man on the shoulder. "You're a good man, Kent. It will be an honour to die with you."

Kent gave a small smile at that. "Let's fight first, Commodore. We can worry about the dying later."

"Very true. And one never knows. Perhaps today is not our day to die. Port Royal has survived worse, and it will continue to survive. It was built upon soil rich with good men's blood and maybe the earth is sated today. We will see. God be with us, but we will see."

The two men shared one last look before starting the charge, not knowing whether they would live or die, and yet willing to give everything to their city. Should the world be filled with such men.

WWW

"It truly makes me look…distinguished?" Norrington asked carefully, glancing over his tattooed shoulder with a discerning eye. It wasn't as if he didn't believe Elizabeth and Jack at their word, well he believed Elizabeth, but he had to be sure. He wasn't entirely sure why, it wasn't as if he could get rid of the blasted thing now. Why on God's earth had he agreed to this?

"Look here mate," Jack interrupted Norrington's obsessive musings decisively. "Even if it didn't, there's nothing you can do about it, savvy? It's yours. Its there to stay. Be glad it's no something you wake up having after a night of too much rum."

Norrington blinked. Well yes, there was _that._ "Are you telling me that you've woken up with tattoos you can't remember getting?" Norrington wasn't sure he believed him, but then he thought about it a little more and all doubt faded from his mind. Of course the infamous lover of rum and women Captain Jack Sparrow would allow himself to become so drunk as to wake up the next morning with a new tattoo and no recollection of getting it. "May I ask what it was a tattoo of?"

"It's a mermaid. That's all you need to know," Jack said evenly. Norrington laughed. "I'm having a thought here though, mate."

"Oh?" Norrington asked warily. Jack's thoughts weren't always thoughts that should be shared, let alone considered.

"Lizzie should get a tattoo herself. We wouldn't want her to feel left out," Jack said with a nod.

"What? You're out of your mind, you…you…pirate! In now way am I going to let those men even come _near_ me! You two keep your tattoos to yourself!" Elizabeth threatened. Jack and Norrington couldn't help it. They both started laughing. Elizabeth simply glowered, and had been about to scold them both further when a horribly familiar and unwelcome voice interrupted on their moment together.

"Ah Jack. How nice it is to see you again," Hector Barbossa exclaimed with a grin, standing as clear as day on the sand as if he had always been there.

"You-you're dead," Jack gasped. It seemed to be the popular reaction for both Elizabeth and Norrington were gasping the same words moments later.

Barbossa grinned, and it was a frightful sight. "Not anymore." Before any of them could react, he was charging them with his sword unsheathed, the sharp metal glinting dangerously in the afternoon sunlight. Elizabeth screamed.

TBC

A/N: Yes, it has been an age and a half since I've updated this. I have been duly scolded by a barrage of people though, so you need not worry yourself about that. Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter. Oddly enough it ended practically where the last one did. This chapter was one of flashbacks it seemed. Ah oh well. I hope you liked them in any case.

Wonderful Reviewer Response Time!

Arenas: Yeah well not three days…heh….but there will be some more Jack and Barbossa stuff next chapter. I've still got to deevilify poor Jack somehow. ;)

OpraNoodlemantra: Yes, Jack will meet up with his fam sooner or later. Prolly sooner seeing as this fic is winding down to a close.

xkholeyesx: Sorry there wasn't much Barbossa in this chapter. There will be oodles in the next, I promise.

BraveSymbol: Heh…this was more than a month and a half update time…heh I think I jinxed myself with the 4 day chapter last chapter. Whoopsie

FalconWing: I have no plans for dead Jack. Yet. I've still got another story to write you know. ;)

Lynx Rider: Are you kidding me? I love your reviews! And yes. I am the Angst Queen. ;)

AJB: I wish the 4 day chapter woulda become a habit. That might have saved me from some scrollies. Ah well. Better late than never right?

Padme17: Oh he's still totally evil at the moment. Well past Jack anyway, but he will have a desperate change of heart soon. Don't you worry. ;)

Holliday1081: Thank you so much for your review! You always make me blush. I'm serious. Sorry for the overly long wait for this chapter. I wish I could have put more Julian in it, but alas his time has passed. I like to think he might show up again to wreak a little havoc in the future though. One can always hope.

Mistress of Destruction: Sorry I couldn't have posted this sooner for you. Thank you as always for your review.

Cap'n Dru Shaddix: Thank you for the kind words. Sorry I couldn't update this sooner.

Ok you guys are the best. You really and truly are. I love you all. Without your constant support-and constant nagging for some of you-I would have never gotten this chapter written methinks. Thank you so much all of you! Drinks all around!

Merrie


	15. Chapter 14: Devil's Bargain

A Gilded Cage: Sequel to Broken Wings, Part II of the Fallen Sparrows Trilogy

A Pirates of the Caribbean story by Merrie

Disclaimer: Jack, Norry, Liz, Lorelac, Barbossa and all others own me. I would never attempt to claim otherwise.

Summary: As a battle is waged for Jack's soul by all the angels of heaven and all the demons in hell with Barbossa as their warrior, will our Sparrow be able to see a way out of the gilded cage that surrounds him before all is lost?

Characters: Captain Jack Sparrow, Chief James Norrington, Elizabeth Swann, Hector Barbossa, Lorelac and various others.

Author's Note: I'm trying my best to update this quickly, but as with my other three fics it has to wait its turn in the queue. Sorry about this and I thank you all for your continued patience.

Rating: R for violence and language.

Chapter 14: Devil's Bargains

Wuinakexa, Norrington's Island.

Lorelac waited. And Lorelac remembered. He remembered a time far before the earliest memory of the race of the man he inhabited. He remembered a time when he was flesh—or as near to it as a god could achieve while maintaining his godhead—and he did not know how those times had been forgotten. He had been imprisoned by his lord and lady, that he remembered, but for what? Why had they imprisoned him? What crime had he committed to force him into banishment. He vaguely remembered that the crystal in which he was caged was one of the Lady's treasured baubles. She had not surrendered it lightly but her husband had convinced her.

Damn them both for what they had done to him. They had stolen his existence, stolen his power. He was a god and they had relegated him to the life of a prisoner; a slave to the whims of the fates. He had remained in that goddamned crystal for time longer than memory, awaiting his chance to take revenge on his captors. It did not matter that they were gods. He too was a god. He could—_would_—kill them both for the injustice they had served upon him.

Oonid had always been so smug, so self-righteous. He might have been the king of the gods but he was a fool. And now, and now he wasn't even remembered anymore. He wasn't revered, he wasn't worshipped, he had been forgotten. He had lost his name in the halls of time and Lorelac was pleased. He knew somehow that the Kourikan Plane was empty of all his brethren. He was the only one left of the 13 that had ruled the earth and heavens. He did not know what happened to them all; did not know if they remembered his absence, but he did not care. They were gone. He remained. And he had followers. Children of the Fallen, they called themselves. He should have been irritated by the title of Fallen rather than the ones his mantle had given him but he found it curiously satisfying. He was Fallen. And yet he was Lorelac as well. It was his only; his ancient name and the day it passed forgotten from the lips of men would be the day he would to pass beyond the reach of the Plane. Would he join the others then? Would he simply cease to exist? He wasn't about to find out whatever the outcome might be. This was his domain now. His world. He would not leave it.

But who had called to him? He had heard their plea of fealty but he had been unable to answer them. They had offered a worthy offering of a warrior's freshly spilt blood; that made them at least somewhat worthy of his attention. If only he could free himself of this prison. If the crystal was smashed he would be free. The pirate knew this and wouldn't let the others near him. But now the pirate did not notice him. He had forgotten. Something—he dared not speak its name for it was even older than him—had taken the pirate. Somehow this man was important but Lorelac couldn't understand why. What had he done? Why did he matter? Why should the ancient and powerful Others be concerned with him? He was nothing! He was a whining mortal!

_It is not for you to worry about. He is ours. He has always been ours. Since the moment of his first breath his name was written into our book. He is not yours, trickster. Your time in this plane has ended. _

The voice seemed to echo through Lorelac's very existence, and somehow instinctively he knew he should fear it and he did. He did not understand the existence of the Others, he just knew they were and always had been. He did not know if they represented themselves or something even greater. It had been a taboo subject on the Plane and no matter how often he had questioned Oonid about them his queries would always be ignored. But he had kept asking, thirsting for the knowledge that had been denied him. He wasn't certain but he suspected it was those very questions which had strengthened Oonid and the rest of the Plane against him. The crime they had imprisoned him for he could no longer fully remember…something about a mortal girl…but he was certain that his questions had been the real reason.

_You asked questions to which no one must know the answer. That is why your brethren shunned you, trickster. We are not to be questioned. We are not to be sought out. We are to be feared and worshipped. _

"You have worshippers?" Lorelac asked the…_Other_ his first direct question. He knew he shouldn't ask it questions, he had even been _warned _not to ask it questions, but he couldn't help it. He had always been more curious than was probably wise. Many of the other gods had told him as much. So what if he was curious? Was he just supposed to lie back like the others did not questioning anything? He couldn't do that. He needed to know more. He needed reasons. He may not have been the god of wisdom and the search for knowledge but that didn't mean he didn't believe in those things. After all, how could he effectively create mischief if he didn't know the best way to do so? Knowledge was power and he wanted that power.

_You should have listened to the other lower beings. Your curiosity will be your undoing. _

Lorelac told himself that he wasn't afraid of this being and its threats, but that was a lie. He was afraid and he hated it. He was Lorelac, the god of misery and destruction, trickery and pain, storms and deception and he was afraid. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. Who or what was this being to inspire such fear?

The being laughed and Lorelac felt himself tremble. He wanted to yell at it to stop; to stop laughing at him, but he couldn't say the words.

_You do right to fear me, trickster. We could end your existence with a mere thought; a whim. You know this. You believe this and understand this. _

"Are you many? Or one?" The way the being had shifted between referring to itself as 'me' and 'we' confused him. He tried not to focus on the threat.

_We are one and all. _It said simply.

"Are you what the mortals call the devil?" Lorelac couldn't help his questions even now. The being laughed and Lorelac wondering at the humour of his words.

_He belongs to us. He speaks for us but we are not the same. We are beyond the understanding of mere mortals and lower beings such as yourself, trickster. _

Again that term, _lower being._ And to be compared to the mortals! It was unbearable.

_Are you going to ask me to stop? Do you see yourself as worthy of my attentions?_

"You are talking to me. If you truly considered me so unworthy of your esteem you wouldn't bother paying any attention to me," Lorelac said, trying for confidence. The being was silent for a long time and Lorelac entertained the notion—briefly—that he had actually managed to trick it. Either that or it was simply ignoring him again.

_You have your place in this world._

That wasn't exactly an answer, but at least he wasn't being ignored. "Do you have a name?"

_Our minions have names. We are eternal. We have no use of a name. _

Names were power. Surely this being must have a name. Perhaps it simply didn't want it known. "Then what do I call you?"

The being seemed to hesitate before uttering a single name. _Rasalom_

Lorelac had no idea if this was the being's true name—it probably wasn't—but it sounded…_right _somehow. It was as if he remembered this name in the pit of his existence and knew to fear it. "Rasalom," he repeated, immediately wishing he hadn't. To speak a being's true name was to draw its attention upon you and Lorelac was no longer sure he wanted that attention.

_It is far too late for that. We are already here._

If Lorelac could have run, if he could have fled far, far away from this being, this _Rasalom_ with its—_his—_cool voice like blackness behind the sun; dark that would never end, he would have. He would have left this plane never come back. But he couldn't. He was trapped and Rasalom knew it.

_Serve us and we will free you from your prison. Pledge fealty to us and you will reign again._

"How do I know you'll do what you say if I agree?" Why was he being offered this? This was what he wanted, what he longed for, yet he sensed a catch.

_You don't. Do we have a bargain or not? Those who do not deal with us are not suffered to live._

"When you put it that way I guess I have no choice," Lorelac said dryly, not liking this at all. He was supposed to make the deals, not others.

_Correct. You have no choice. Agree._

"Free me from this place and I shall serve you, Rasalom."

_Good. It shall be done. You belong to us now. You are ours. _

Lorelac didn't like the sound of that, but he needed to be free. He would be free and then he would make the pirate and his friends pay for their insolence.

_No. Sparrow is ours. You may have the others; the one marked as yours and the girl. They are yours. Leave Sparrow to us. We have plans for him…_

ooo

Thorneheart, England 1679

Richard walked from where he had exchanged words and threats with the whore, his eyes seeking out the red-roofed building she had mentioned. _If anyone knows where to find Captain Pardal, he'd be there…The Crimson King is the red roofed building straight that way...Don't get yourself killed._ Richard would try to follow the whore's last words. He probably should have had a plan to ensure that but he just wanted to find Eva's brother. He had been gone from her side for far too long now. He simply wanted this all to end but he couldn't just turn around. Not without completing what he had set out to do. He had to find Edward and see for himself if the rumours about him were true. He had to know if the bookish young man he had known 6 years ago truly had forsaken his family to become a vicious pirate.

He straightened his dingy clothing as he approached the building in question, hoping he knew what the hell he was doing. The whore hadn't seemed to think much of his chances of coming out of this place alive. _I don't know what the problem is. It doesn't look that bad— _His thoughts were cut off by a bloodied and bruised man sailing out the red doors of the…establishment followed by loud cursing and raucous laughter. He swallowed after a moment and moved into the building.

The din that embraced him was staggering and he nearly turned on a heel and walked back out before steadying himself. He was relieved to notice that every eye hadn't turned to him upon entering as he had feared. Actually, he was pretty well ignored by the patrons of this particular…establishment. He walked up to the bar and tried to catch the barkeep's eye, figuring if anyone had any information regarding those who came and went in this particular port, it would be the one who sold them their rum.

The barkeep glanced over to his dirtied figure with little to no interest before his cool eyes set on the noticeable bulge of coin in his pockets. Then he was all smiles and welcomes. "What can I get for you, mate?" he asked with a broad smile, and Richard had no doubt he would have been clapped on the back in a brotherly manner had he been close enough to reach.

"I'm in need of information, actually. If you have the knowledge I seek and I am able to make use of it, I will reward you," Richard bargained with the slimy man.

"And just what is it that you be needin' mate? What kind of information?"

"I'm looking for a man."

"Well we don't usually cater to that sort of…entertainment, but you might try down on the docks—"

"No! No that's not what I meant!" Richard hastened to correct the man's faulty assumption. "I mean I'm searching for a man. I need to speak with him."

"Oh? And what might this man's name be, son?" the barkeep asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm told he goes by many names but the one you may have heard of is John Pardal. Captain John Pardal."

The barkeep's eyes narrowed and he shook his head. "Keep your money, son. You'll be getting no information on that man from the likes of me."

Richard brought out his money purse and placed it on the bar, letting the keep hear the jingle of gold held within. "You've heard of him, I take it. Where can I find him?" Richard froze as he became aware of hungry eyes shifting in his direction. Apparently the barkeep hadn't been the only one to hear the sound of the gold he carried. He muttered a curse under his breath as his brash foolishness and placed his free hand on the hilt of his dagger. He prayed he would not have to use it.

"You can't. But I'm certain he'll find you."

"Oh? Why can't I find him?" Richard asked warily. Was the man dead? He half hoped that he was. At least then he could give Eva and her mother the peace of knowing for certain that Edward was dead.

"You can't find him because Captain John Pardal doesn't exist anymore, mate. No one's seen or heard from him for over a year now. His ship is captained by his first mate."

_Damn. How am I supposed to find him now?_ Richard was about to despair when a thought occurred to him. _Would he have changed his name again? _"Have you heard of any new pirates named Sperling?"

"Sperling?" the barkeep questioned with an incredulous look. "Never heard of no Sperling."

"No Sperling, alright. How about…" Richard paused and considered. Sperling and Pardal both meant the same thing: sparrow. Would Edward follow the pattern? "Have you heard of a man by the name of Sparrow?" Something clicked behind the barkeep's eyes and Richard went on. "Edward or John Sparrow? Jack perhaps?" He was asking the right questions. He could feel it.

"Captain Jack Sparrow is the captain of the Black Pearl," the barkeep answered him with a frown, obviously trying to figure out the connection between Pardal and Sparrow for himself.

"The Black Pearl. Do you know where her berth is?" Richard asked eagerly. "Is she here?"

"You missed her naught by two weeks."

"Where? Where did she go? Tell me," Richard demanded in his best magisterial voice.

"Tortuga. You'll find her in Tortuga. Now I've told you what you need to know so where's my mon—" the barkeep cut himself off at Richard's hasty exit and was about to send his boys after him when he noticed the inquisitive stranger had left his heavy money purse behind. _All the more a fool then. Let him chase after pirates. He'll only be leading himself to his own grave. No concern of mine._

WWW

Jack couldn't help but roll his eyes at Barbossa's confusion. The dead pirate's sword was sunk hilt-deep into his chest but Jack didn't feel a thing. Barbossa on the other hand looked livid. "I'm guessing whoever brought you back didn't tell you of my current…circumstances, did they, Barbossa?" Jack drawled sarcastically.

"You're cursed," was all Barbossa seemed to have to say on the subject.

"How good of you to notice. Would you mind removing your sword from my chest now? It…itches." It was easy for Jack to be glib about his own life—he was dead—but he was fully aware that Elizabeth and Norrington weren't and could in fact be hurt. Barbossa just stood there, a stormy scowl pushing through the mask of confusion at Jack's predicament. Jack knew he had to act quickly before Barbossa regained enough presence of mind to see if they were all cursed or if he could kill each of them in turn.

For Barbossa's part he was more than a little confused by the current goings on. Had he been told that Jack was cursed? Wasn't it the curse itself that had resurrected him and sent him after Sparrow in the first place? How was supposed to kill a man who was already dead? "I'm being played," he growled a moment later, realisation dawning. Jack was cursed. The being that had sent him had known of this. It had known Barbossa wouldn't be able to kill Sparrow no matter how he tried. So why then had he been resurrected? Was this some new kind of torment? To escape hell itself to spend eternity trying to kill a man who could not be killed? He would be a puppet no longer. "Don't bother trying to warn them. They've nothing to fear from me," Barbossa spoke up suddenly, not even bothering to look up at Jack as he vainly tried to warn his two remaining friends away.

"Come now, Barbossa. You don't honestly expect me to believe that? The moment we let our guard down you'll stab us in the back. It's what you do," Jack spoke up with an incredulous sneer.

"With what? I've no weapon but my sword and it's currently sheathed in your chest at present," Barbossa said dryly.

"Why should I believe you?" Jack asked with a snort close to amusement though it was clear he still danced on a knife's edge, ready to defend Elizabeth and Norrington should the need arise.

"I was sent here to kill you by a being who knew that you could not be killed. It gave me life to take yours while knowing all along that I couldn't," Barbossa said bitterly.

Jack rolled his eyes. "If you're expecting for me to feel sorry for you Barbossa you're even crazier now than you were when I killed you." Jack yanked Barbossa's sword out of his chest with a grunt and a gasping whimper from Elizabeth before turning his attention back to his dead now alive again former first mate. "What did…this being say to you? Did it tell you why it wanted me dead or did you just accept merrily and rush to the task?"

Barbossa frowned, looking puzzled. "It said to kill you for it. It seemed rather emphatic about it too which doesn't make any sense. It sounded as if it truly wanted you dead and yet it must have played a part in your being cursed again. It doesn't make any sense."

"Unless," Norrington started before catching himself and falling silent.

"Unless what, Norrington? You've something to say, out with it, man," Jack encouraged him.

"Unless there's a reason the…curse wants you dead. Or at least, not of this earth any longer."

"You mean this bloody thing wants my soul," Jack muttered, sounding not at all surprised. "It figures."

"What is it about you that makes you so bloody important?" Barbossa asked with an irritated sneer. "You're nothing special. You're not even Captain Jack Sparrow." At Jack's look, Barbossa went on. "Do you even know who you are anymore, Jack? I know now that you were Pardal and I must admit I'm impressed. There are not many pirates in the sea that can boast Captain John Pardal's manner of cruelty, myself included."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "You know nothing about me, Barbossa. Don't presume to think otherwise."

Barbossa considered for a long moment before acquiescing with a slight nod. "So be it. Well what now, Jack Sparrow? I can't kill you, you can't kill me…this is all seeming a mite familiar," he said wryly. "Shall I aim my pistol at the lovely Miss Swann now for old time's sake?"

"Do that and I'll blow the back of your head off, Barbossa," Norrington interrupted though he clearly was unarmed save his now unsheathed sword. "If it doesn't kill you I'm certain it'll put you into a considerable amount of pain. I can live with that."

"What is it about you, Miss Swann that inspires men to do such foolish acts? I heard your blacksmith was dead. My condolences," he said with a mocking bow. "Though I wonder if his death doesn't have something to do with the curse being back. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you Jack?"

Jack's sword was at Barbossa's threat before either man could blink. "So you do bleed, Barbossa," Jack said coldly when a drip of crimson ran along the sharp blade from where the sensitive skin of Barbossa's neck had split under even the slightest of pressures from Jack's razor-sharp sword. "Tell me. Did the being that brought you back to life make you immortal as clearly I am now? From the looks of things, I gather not. It would seem that you were sent only to be killed again. How considerate. I think I shall enjoy it even more this time."

"Come now, Jack," Barbossa tried, lifting his chin against Jack's blade. He was clearly uncomfortable in that he was able to feel pain again, but he wasn't about to let something as minor as a little pain cloud his mind to the point that he couldn't act to save himself. "There surely must have been some other reason for my return than to be simply killed by you again."

"I for one, hope not. A single death is never enough for mutineers," Jack smirked good-naturedly. He seemed to be enjoying himself. This was enough to give Norrington and Elizabeth pause.

"Maybe we should turn him into the authorities at Port Royal, Jack," Elizabeth suggested gently.

"Port Royal is no doubt overrun by now," Jack said casually. "If I am cursed again then all of my former crew is no doubt cursed again as well. They wouldn't find it hard to escape the city."

"But—but if that's true then we must return to Port Royal at once!" Elizabeth said desperately, thinking of her father.

"The lass is right, Jack," Barbossa spoke up. "My crew is made up of naught but humble pirates as I once told Miss Swann. Without a captain to lead them I'm afraid they may not leave the town standing as they once might have."

"You don't leave towns standing, Barbossa. You desecrate them and leave but one survivor, an innocent, to tell the tale." Jack spoke as if he were reminding Barbossa of a lesson he had forgotten.

"Aye. So you've always taught, Jack. That was your practice when you captained the Hangman's Knuckles as well, wasn't it? Don't bother answering. We both know it was. And how exactly did you gain control of the ship again? Oh I remember the tale now. You killed the captain and those men loyal to him and took control of the ship for yourself. Would one call that mutiny I wonder?" The smile on Barbossa's face as he spoke these words was positively obscene. "Do not speak to me of righteous anger, Jack. You are worse than I ever was. I don't know what changed you those years ago and I don't care but for simple curiosity." It was as if Barbossa was no longer aware of the blade at his neck for he went on speaking. "So what was it, Jack? The love of a good woman?" he asked with a sneer. "Oh forgive me. Jack Sparrow has all women and loves none of them. Did you have a change of heart after witnessing a particularly brutal pillaging? No, that can't have been it. You've led some of the most depraved acts I've ever witnessed in my years as a pirate." There was a wry kind of irony in Barbossa's voice as he said this, almost as if he were both impressed and disgusted at the same time.

"Save your breath unless you care to lose it, Barbossa," Jack hissed, having had enough of the once-dead pirate's speculations as to his past. He didn't know why he had bothered to let the man talk this long without cutting his throat. Perhaps he curious to hear the man guess his reason… He pushed that thought violently aside and turned back to matters at hand. "The only reason you're still alive is because I want to know why you're back in the first place. Betray me, attempt to harm my friends, and you'll wish you'd stayed in hell where you belong. Once you're of no longer use to me I'll be more than obliged to send you back there."

"Let me get this straight, Jack, one has difficulties following your reasoning at times. If I don't cooperate, you'll kill me. If I do cooperate, you'll still kill me," he said dryly. "Not the best of choices."

"If you don't cooperate I'll kill you slower, if that's any incentive towards making your choice," Jack added coldly.

Barbossa pretended to consider it before Jack grew impatient and pressed the blade even harder against the man's neck, causing the drop of blood that had spilt forth earlier to increase to a slow trickle. "Make your choice," Jack hissed.

"It's already made. I'll cooperate," Barbossa said grimly. Jack lowered the blade immediately but did not return it to the sheath at his belt.

"Start talking, Barbossa. What you tell me determines the length of the remainder of your life."

As Barbossa began to speak, Elizabeth moved closer to Norrington's side in silence. Her thoughts were filled with worry for her father and the few friends she had made in Port Royal. As she thought upon them however, her mind kept coming back to the visage of Jack standing before her, promising to kill another man so callously. Certainly Barbossa was a man that deserved to die—again—but not in the manner in which Jack had suggested. Jack's words and tone had taken her back to when he had been possessed by Lorelac, and she was half-checking his eyes to see if they weren't blue. The fact that they remained brown, the fact that Jack was not possessed as he said these things, unsettled her more than if Lorelac had been back. Jack was cursed once more; undead. Did that mean he yet retained his soul? Elizabeth wasn't so sure. And if he didn't have his soul, if he didn't have what she believed to be humanity's conscience still within him, then what kept him from going back to the ways he had obviously known years ago? What had changed him so significantly in the first place? When Barbossa had asked Jack much the same question, she had unconsciously leaned forward to hear Jack's answer. Jack however had brushed off the question easily. Perhaps she would never know the answer. She supposed that it didn't matter. She only hoped that the singular event that had changed Captain John Pardal to the Captain Jack Sparrow she had come to know was potent enough to keep him on the path of good now when it would be hardest to do so.

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Tortuga, 1679

It had taken much time and money, but Richard was convinced he was on the right path at last. He would find Eva's brother and make him answer for himself.

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Port Royal

The port was in flames but it was still standing. The people had been bloodied and battered, but many of them had survived. The pirates had swept through the city and Commodore Groves and his few remaining men had done their best to fight them back. They had killed none yet taken heavy losses themselves. The Commodore yet lived and yet what little he had left to command was devastating. They hadn't defeated the pirates; the pirates had grown tired of them and left. No one was sure where they were going and no one cared. As long as they were gone, the people of Port Royal could breathe. As long as they didn't return, the city would be rebuilt. They had known adversity before and would know it again, but they had always persevered.

Commodore Theodore Groves hadn't died when he had suspected he would, and he was almost saddened at this. He had seen too many good men fall at his sides while he himself had come through the battle with barely a scratch to show for it. The remaining men didn't seem to know whether he was blessed or cursed. He knew he was cursed. There was no other explanation for it. Those who had died defending their city and people were the blessed ones. Those that survived to bury the dead were always cursed.

He took a breath and smoothed his sweaty dark hair from his forehead. He had had a wig during one point of the battle and was unsure when he had lost it, but it didn't matter. This was no time to worry about something as trivial and petty as personal appearance. He had to regroup. They had to go after the pirates and find a way to stop them. Or die trying.

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Rasalom watched the proceedings with amusement. Everything was more or less going exactly as he had planned. He was mildly disappointed—if such a being as him could feel such things as disappointment—that Sparrow hadn't killed Barbossa immediately, but that was no matter. He would make use of this and gain a minion in that fool Lorelac at the same time. Barbossa was within Rasalom's scope of power. That the resurrected pirate had no knowledge of that fact would only make what was to come that much sweeter. Sparrow would be his again and the world would weep.

TBC

A/N: Hm, I once thought that the chapter before this one was going to be the final chapter of this story but it would appear I've got more loose ends than I had originally considered. Next chapter: Richard finds Jack and forces him to explain himself, Elizabeth worries that Jack may being taken over by the curse, Barbossa plays his part, Lorelac gets his turn at power, the cursed pirates roam the seas looking for a captain, and Rasalom manipulates them all.

To my reviewers, I thank you all so very much. Without you, I'd have no incentive to keep my queue, dividing my time between all the stories I'm currently writing equally. You all really keep me focussed. Thank you again.


	16. Chapter 15: Murder and Manipulation

A Gilded Cage: Sequel to Broken Wings, Part II of the Fallen Sparrows Trilogy

A Pirates of the Caribbean story by Merrie

Disclaimer: Jack, Norry, Liz, Lorelac, Barbossa and all others own me. I would never attempt to claim otherwise.

Summary: As a battle is waged for Jack's soul by all the angels of heaven and all the demons in hell with Barbossa as their warrior, will our Sparrow be able to see a way out of the gilded cage that surrounds him before all is lost?

Characters: Captain Jack Sparrow, Chief James Norrington, Elizabeth Swann, Hector Barbossa, Lorelac and various others.

Author's Note: Heh. Remember me? –crickets chirp- Perhaps not. To those of you who are still with me, wow I love you all to pieces. I think I would have given up on me a long, long time ago. To those of you who are reading this for the first time, welcome! Now, as it's been over a year since I've posted a new chapter, on with the show!

Also, thanks to the amazing and wonderful neondaises for betaing for me. Without her, yeah it would be bad. Thanks, Psnoo!

Rating: M for violence and language.

Chapter 15: Murder and Manipulation

Jack had never before felt such weariness, but he couldn't sleep. Even the knowledge that Barbossa was safely imprisoned under the watchful eye of Norrington's guards wasn't enough to ease his mind. The man had the tongue of a snake. He had already proved that today as he remained…alive? Jack wasn't quite sure just what Barbossa was now; whether he yet lived or was dead. It was a question Jack had asked himself many times after dealing with the Aztec curse. He had died—he had felt the blade slide into his chest and his breath leave him—did that mean that he had been brought back to life with the breaking of the curse? How was such a thing even possible? Then again, Jack had seen many unexplainable things on this earth in his life—many in the last few years alone—and yet the idea of his own mortality was something that was hard to wrap his brain around.

Jack didn't know why he bothered thinking such thoughts. The point was moot now as it had been then. He was cursed; he was dead. The point couldn't be made any clearer than that.

"You should rest, honoured friend of the Chief," Kiquan's soft voice floated over to him. Jack didn't start; he had heard the man's almost soundless approach long ago. "There is an ill wind favouring us now. You're a cursed man."

Jack inexplicably wanted to deny such a thing against all sense but he simple held his tongue with a modicum of effort and nodded. "Yes. I am cursed. I am damned." If they were standing in the moonlight he might have better demonstrated this simple fact.

"Should you bring your curse upon my chief as you have the Turner's I will kill you, Captain," Kiquan said softly though his voice was as hard as folded steel.

Jack briefly wondered if Norrington knew the level of Kiquan's devotion to him. "Many men have tried to kill me, Kiquan. Only one has been successful but it didn't stick, you see?" Jack didn't bother asking Kiquan how he intended to kill him as he was already dead. The man seemed determined enough to find a way.

"I know this man of which you speak. The man we have imprisoned; Barbossa," Kiquan answered with a nod. "He killed you. Do you dream of his blade through your chest?"

_What an interesting question. I didn't know Kiquan had it in him to be so ruthless._ Jack didn't answer however. There was no need.

"Betray my chief and you will still have nightmares of your death at my hands even after you've faced the torments of the Pit." Kiquan made this a promise, not a threat. "Do we understand one another, Captain?"

"We understand one another, Kiquan," Jack answered with a coldness of his own. "But you've said your piece, allow me mine: Come after me if you dare, I've sent far better men to their graves than you without regret. Savvy?"

Kiquan merely nodded and turned back to attend his Chief.

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Port Royal

While the night should have mercifully hidden the damage done to the prosperous port by the pirate raiders, it only seemed to focus its inhabitants' attentions on what they had lost. Many homes and shops still burned, their hope-crushing fires lighting up the night sky in brilliant red as if hell itself had descended upon the town. Many found this more than easy to believe but as a whole the people were strong; unbowed. They had faced such attacks before and they no doubt would again. Such a thought might have sent the most stalwart of optimists spiraling into depression but that was the way of things in Port Royal. To weep over what was lost was fine, but to fall into depression over what was inevitable was never acceptable. Governor Swann was no exception. He had shed his tears for the loss of his daughter but he didn't despair that he'd never see her again. He knew that he would someday see her again, whether in this world or the next didn't matter.

"Governor? I've things for you to sign if you're not busy," his aide Adam called out; standing at the door to the office he had barely left in days.

"No, I'm not to busy," Governor Swann said with a barely restrained sigh. "Please come in, Adam. I'm always ready to see to the needs of Port Royal and her citizens. Especially in times such as these."

"Commodore Groves has requested men to chase after the pirates, sir," his aide pointed out, laying papers asking for such things on Governor Swann's large mahogany desk.

Governor Swann nodded slowly, not for the first time regretting letting Commodore Norrington go. He had initially been against Admiral Kleeson's decision to dismiss him, but he had not spoken up wanting to keep the often uneasy balance between military and state as best as he could. Which was more than foolish now that he'd given himself to think upon it. He had respected Norrington, enough so that he had been willing for the man to take his daughter's hand in marriage. Now he wasn't even sure who this new commodore was, Elizabeth was engaged to be married to a blacksmith, and missing. As was Norrington, he was concerned to note. No one, no matter how much he threatened or begged could tell him where any of them—Norrington, his daughter and her…fiancé—had gone. She was lost to him twice and he didn't know if he'd ever see her again. That was enough to break a father's soul in two.

"Sir? Sir are you alright?" Adam asked, a concerned frown crossing his features.

"What? Oh yes, Adam I'm fine. I was merely thinking long thoughts."

"You were thinking about Miss Swann, weren't you, sir?"

The governor's expression was a bit pinched to hear his thoughts discerned so easily, but he pushed such things aside. Will wasn't a bad son-in-law to be, all things considered. He may not have been quite what Swann had imagined for his daughter, but he was a decent man. At least, that had been Swann's opinion of the boy before he had disappeared with Elizabeth for the second time now. _And come to think of it, Norrington was gone then as well._ He realised abruptly that he hadn't answered Adam's question. "Yes, I was thinking about her. But there are far pressing issues to deal with here than my errant daughter. The new commodore needs men to go after the pirates, you said?"

"Yes, sir."

"How many men does he think he'll need?"

"As many as Port Royal can spare, sir."

"That's not many at this point, I'm afraid. Though inform the new commodore next time you see him that I appreciate his asking for men rather than simply taking them."

"I will, sir."

"He can have two ships and men. Tell him that any more than that would leave Port Royal vulnerable."

Adam nodded. "Yes, sir. I'll inform the Commodore. I'll make certain he understands sir."

"Make certain he knows that the only reason I'm allowing him to go at all is to ensure that this type of thing doesn't happen again. You can't give these pirates any slack, Adam, or they'll just keep coming back for more."

"No, sir," Adam agreed without hesitation.

Swann nodded, glad for the agreement. "Was that all?"

"The fires are being dealt with, sir. There's nothing much more we can do for now, I'm afraid."

Governor Swann nodded stoically. "Understood, Adam. That will be all."

Adam nodded and left the office silently, leaving Governor Swann to his thoughts.

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Tortuga, 1679

Former Magistrate Richard Donnellson pulled his grungy coat closer to his body and tried not to think about what he was walking in. Tortuga was beyond filthy to say the very least. He had been in town for less than an hour and had already been spat upon, puked on and pushed into the mud by the fringes of a bar fight. His coat was stained with more than a few questionable stains that made his stomach turn in disgust. He considered giving up this ill-fated charade and turning back for England more than once as he walked Tortuga's rowdy streets, imagining his wife and child at home safe and sound waiting for him. But then he remembered his mother-in-law and her pleas. He remembered his own quest to bring his brother-in-law Edward John Corentin Alexander Sperling to justice; to force a confession—no matter the kind nor content—of what had happened those many years ago at sea. He would do his duty.

Everywhere he went, every disgusting pub he had forced himself to enter, he had posed the same questions: Do you know Captain Jack Sparrow? And where can I find him? Thus far he had been unlucky with both questions, forced to move on again and again.

'_The Faithful Bride,'_ Richard mused to himself as he looked up at a paint-chipped and faded sign. If it was possible, this _establishment_ looked even worse than its predecessors. But Richard couldn't turn around. He couldn't go home. Not now, not until he had found that which he sought. He couldn't return to his wife and her mother empty-handed. He was still a man of honour—likely the only one in this wretched place—and he would finish what he had started.

The purse of gold in his coat was getting lighter and lighter with each round of questions but he hadn't met a barkeep yet who would willingly part with such obviously horded knowledge without some form of compensation. Richard didn't know what he would do when the coins ran out so he didn't bother himself with such thoughts. It was always wise to start the conversation with gold, Richard had learned, it captured a man's attention far better than a shout ever would. "I'm looking for someone," Richard growled, his voice intentionally gruff as he snapped a few shiny coins on the wet and battle-scarred bar. "Help me find him and there's more where this came from." He didn't have to wait long until the filthy barkeep quickly snatched the coins with greedy fingers.

"Everyone's lookin' for someone, mate. Who are you lookin' for? Maybe I can help you find him," the man offered, all smiles and manners—what few he had—now that gold was on the line.

Richard leaned in so that he wouldn't be overheard. "Captain Jack Sparrow," he whispered, his green eyes cold as he carefully scrutinised the man's reaction to the name. There. A flicker of the eyes. Sparrow was here. Finally, he could end this Godforsaken search.

"I've heard of him," the man said carefully, not willing to give it all up for so little payment. "My memory's a bit poor nowadays though."

Richard kept the disgusted scowl from his face with concentrated effort and placed two more gold coins on the bar to match the first two. "Tell me where he is," he ordered, making it clear he expected to be given what he sought for purchasing the barkeep's _services._

The man pocketed the gold so quickly Richard almost wouldn't have believed it had been there in the first place if he hadn't put it on the bar with his own hand. "In the back. Alone," the man said with a gesture of his chin. "His crew's about though." He didn't bother warning this gold-handed gentleman that Sparrow had single-handedly put tougher looking men in the ground for looking at him cross-eyed. It was no loss to him if the red-headed idiot got himself killed. As long as he had his bar and his gold, he was happy.

Richard didn't thank him. He simply headed off in the direction the barkeep had indicated, his green eyes flashing at the chance to confront Edward once and for all.

It didn't take long to find the man he sought now that knew where to look. His brother-in-law was sitting exactly as the barkeep had described him; alone at a small table in the back, a tall tankard of something—likely rum—sitting before him. The whores wandering through the place eyed him with interested but he seemed either unwilling or unable to return their attentions. Richard didn't care which. It was better that they do this alone. "Edward," he growled, coming to stand before the man his darling Eva loved even to this day. "Or is it Jack now?"

"It's Jack," the pirate answered, not looking up from his drink. "And I hope you've said your goodbyes to your wife and children."

"Why?" Richard asked dryly, snagging an empty chair from a nearby table and bringing it up across from Jack to take a seat. "You planning to kill me? I can't say I'm surprised. That's what pirates do, isn't it? Kill people."

"Sometimes," Jack said with a grin that showed off a brief flash of gold. It was something warm and bright to counter the way his eyes remained cold and black. Richard allowed himself to ponder such a contrast for a brief second before shaking the unbidden thought away. "If they get in my way, that is. And you do seem to be in my way. Savvy?"

"Don't you even want to know why I'm here?" Richard asked with a scowl. "Don't you even care that I followed you all the way from England?"

Jack put on a bored expression and took another sip of his rum. "To 'bring me to justice,' I imagine. Isn't that what magistrates do?" Jack asked with such an arrogant smirk that Richard had to forcibly stop himself from striking him.

"I want to know what happened on that ship. I want to know if what they say about you is true. I want to know—"

"If I really did sell out my cousin's crew and get them all killed?" Jack interjected, the smirk never leaving his face.

"Did you?"

"What do you think?" God, that same insufferable smirk. How could anyone stand to be in the same room with him let alone have a conversation?

"I'm asking you." Richard refused to play this game. He wanted answers for his wife and Mrs. Sperling's sake and he was going to get them.

"I didn't do it," Jack said with a casual flip of his free hand in lieu of a shrug. As if being mistaken for one of the most hated betrayers in England was merely something trivial to be put up with. "I didn't betray them. The captain of the ship merely found it amusing to make it seem so."

"Kruller," Richard offered, prompting Jack to continue. He had a feeling if they stopped now, he'd never get the full story. He didn't question why Jack was being truthful with him, the rum perhaps, but he didn't question it either. Not when he had searched so long for answers.

"Zachariah Kruller. Yes. For whatever reason I caught his eye. Perhaps he liked his boys dark-haired. I didn't know the man long enough to discern his tastes that far. He took me in, imprisoned and tortured me until I gave in, and spread the word that I alone had betrayed my family. I don't blame him, really," Jack said with a wave of his hand. "It was an ingeniously cruel plan and I'm sure I brought him my fair share of amusement." He looked pointedly at Richard, his dark eyes flashing like chips of polished obsidian. "I'm grateful to him for the interest he took in me. He showed me a world of freedom."

"He showed you how to murder people in cold blood!" Richard breathed, shock clear on his face at what he was hearing.

"Of course," Jack said with a furrowed brow, as if that should have been inherently obvious from the beginning. "There's no greater freedom than knowing you have the power over life and death and no one can stop you." The words were mocking but Jack's eyes remained cold.

"_I'll_ stop you," Richard declared, rising from his seat. He had heard enough. While Edward might have been innocent of the crimes for which he was accused, _Jack_ wasn't. Never had he heard someone speak so callously about life and death before. Richard had heard of Captain Pardal's exploits and couldn't believe them. How could someone his innocent Eva loved do such monstrous things? He wouldn't believe it. But this man sitting before him was not the man Eva loved. This wasn't her brother. This was a monster that needed to be stopped.

"That's where you're wrong, mate." Before Richard could react; to try and defend himself, to cry out, to do _anything_, Jack's sword was out of its sheath and slicing effortless through cloth and flesh alike. Richard opened his mouth to speak, but as a man who had been almost sliced in two from his belly to his throat in a vicious upward stroke, he had few words. "No one can stop me," were the last words Richard heard, whispered low and confident in his ear as he slumped to the ground. Just another corpse in a dirty pub in Tortuga; unmarked and unmourned.

WWW

Elizabeth knew the slouch (it couldn't be called anything but) she was currently entertaining on the beach was highly undignified but she couldn't bring herself to care. Her hair was in tangles down her back, ready and able to snarl everything nature threw at it in a moment's notice but she didn't feel like brushing it. Her clothes were ragged, her face was dirt smudged but she _just didn't care._ It was so hard to care about _anything_ anymore let alone her appearance. Her husband was dead, she was pregnant with a rapist demon's children, the rapist demon had been one of her only friends left, her home was likely being razed to the ground, and the only pirate she had ever been truly glad to see dead was walking amongst the living once more. The cosmic injustice of it all appalled her. Why should one good man die and another evil man get to live? Why was her husband dead when Barbossa was given a second chance? It wasn't fair but how could she argue? To whom would she take her case? God? The Devil? So she simply stopped caring. What was the point in a world such as this?

"You don't deserve to be brought up in a world designed to hurt you," she whispered, laying a hand on her still flat stomach. "No matter how you were created, you're innocent, little one. And I'm sure Will would have loved you as his own." If he had been given the chance. If he hadn't been cut down by his best friend. "But Will's gone. Will's gone and he's never coming back. Will's gone." Saying it aloud didn't hurt as much as she thought it should. But that didn't matter. She didn't care.

"Elizabeth? What are you doing out here?" Norrington's gentle yet inquiring voice arrived just before the man himself. Elizabeth didn't answer. She didn't care. "Elizabeth?" To Elizabeth's horror—if she had cared—Norrington took a page from her book and slouched in a clearly undignified manner of his own down next to her. While her gaze was focussed on the sea—when not being turned inward, that is—his rested solely on her. "What's wrong?" She wanted to snort at the question, decided it would be undignified enough, and did. Norrington had the grace to look chagrined. "Alright, I can guess. But at the very least you could indulge my worry." Damn him for that. Was she supposed to feel guilty that he worried? No. She wasn't supposed to care. Damn it.

"I'm fine," she murmured, her voice nearly lost in the crashing waves against the beach. Had she ever realised how lovely the Black Pearl was? She could see it floating peacefully in the harbour off shore, its black hull gleaming in the low sun. Elizabeth half wished its sails were furled so she would be able to see it in its full glory now while the sun was still up and the curse was not yet visible. Master and ship had shared the same fate. Just as Jack was surely cursed once more, so too was his beloved Pearl. It was a shame, but she tried not to care.

"You are many things, Miss Swann but _fine_ is not one of them. Not now," Norrington said calmly. Elizabeth tried not to care but it was getting harder. "You want to know why Barbossa is alive again instead of Will, don't you?" He didn't wait for a response. "I don't blame you. I've been pondering that same question myself. It's an unjust world."

Elizabeth couldn't not care any longer. "Is that all you have to say? _An unjust world?_ My husband is _dead_ and yet that _murderer _is back! He kidnapped me, pointed a gun at me and _he's _the one who gets a second chance!" She was screaming now but didn't have time to care.

"Then do something about it, Elizabeth!" Norrington shouted back if only just to be heard. "Fight! Fight for yourself, your child, for Will. Fight to show this bloody world that you're stronger than this! Fight to show that you're not beaten that easily! Fight to show everyone that you aren't some simpering governor's daughter who wouldn't know the sharp end of a sword if she were shown!"

Elizabeth gaped at him. _Clearly _undignified, but the description was an apt one. Her mouth opened and closed once, twice, three times before she managed to make a sound resembling something other than a dumbfounded grunt. "You—you—oh!" She breathed in utter frustration, her face turning a delicate shade of pink as she fought with the words she wanted to say to him. More than anything she wanted to slap him—hard—but somehow she knew that what he was saying was right. "I do too know the sharp end of a sword and if you even _insinuate _that I don't again, Norrington I'll be more than happy to provide a demonstration!" she huffed, her arms crossing her chest as she scowled at the sea.

Norrington allowed a brief smile to cross his features. "There you are, Elizabeth. I was beginning to wonder if the sea hadn't reclaimed you. It's a pleasure to have you back."

Elizabeth's scowl melted a little. "You're insufferable," she muttered. "But thank you." She turned and looked at him as she said it.

Norrington inclined his head. "Of course, Miss Swann. Whatever else happens, remember how you feel at this moment. Remember that fire and you'll be able to face anything and everything that comes your way."

"Even Jack?" Elizabeth asked softly, her eyes cast out to sea once more.

"In general or…?"

"The curse," Elizabeth clarified. "You saw him, James. You saw how he was with…Barbossa. How ready he was to kill that man. Not that…not that he doesn't deserve it, but he was different James. Colder. He scared me," she admitted.

Norrington nodded and a pensive look crossed his face. "You have to remember Elizabeth, that Jack is and always will be a pirate. A pirate _captain_, no less. I'm sure you've read about pirates," he glanced over at her with something between fondness and love in his eyes. "You were always fascinated by them, I know."

"Much to my father's disapproval," she murmured, momentarily cut down by worry for the people of Port Royal—her father specifically—but not letting it keep her for long.

"It takes a strong will to become a pirate captain," Norrington continued, "and a stronger will to _remain_ a pirate captain. Apparently Jack has done so for a very, very long time."

"As Pardal," Elizabeth murmured, still filled with lingering horror over that realisation. She had heard of Captain John Pardal. She had heard horrible things. Horrible enough that Norrington had been willing to kill him.

"Yes, as Pardal," Norrington said evenly. "Though how Pardal became Sparrow I do not know."

"Have any of us asked him?" Elizabeth wondered aloud. "Surely something must have happened. Some change. He's not the same man."

"No," Norrington agreed. "He's not. John Pardal wouldn't have near willingly faced the gallows for saving your life. He wouldn't have saved you. He wouldn't have been _worth_ saving. But that doesn't mean that John Pardal and Jack Sparrow are different people. Jack was a killer once. He's a killer still. He can become a man like Pardal again."

"I think the curse is making it easier," Elizabeth murmured. "Easier to not care about things such as life and death when he knows he can't be killed. It's easier to blame a thing like a curse for the evil in the world when in truth all it is is an excuse for our own failings." The words were out of her mouth before she could think to apply them to her husband's death at Jack's hands. She didn't want to think upon it right now.

"Then we have to find a way to stop it," Norrington said with authority, rising to his feet and offering her a hand up. Elizabeth knew it couldn't, _wouldn't_, be that easy but she had to agree. They had work to do.

WWW

"You don't say much, do you?" Barbossa drawled at one of his native guards, eying him casually from his place on the ground tied to some kind of exotic tree. The guard didn't answer.

"They don't talk," Jack murmured, not looking up from sharpening his sword as he sat on the sand not far from where Barbossa was tied.

Barbossa's eyes swiveled from his silent guards to Jack and a sly grin spread across his face. "Despite circumstances, one might find our little _predicament_ ironic, Jack."

Jack's eyes rose slowly from his work. "Oh really?" he asked, willing to humour the man for lack of other amusements. "And how's that, Barbossa?"

"Are you too daft to see it?" Barbossa asked with a raised eyebrow as if he couldn't quite believe his former captain's blatant stupidity and ignorance of the obvious. "You're cursed. I'm not."

Jack's eyes grew cold but his mouth turned up in a smile. "Bet you wish you had that plate of apples now, eh mate?"

Barbossa gritted his teeth but otherwise didn't react. "How long has it been, Jack?" he drawled, changing the subject. "How long has it been since the curse returned? Can you still feel the sun's warmth? Can you still taste food? Can you still feel a stirring in your loins when you look at Miss Swann—" Barbossa laughed to feel Jack's freshly sharpened blade at his throat. "You're far too easy to goad, Jack," he chided, seemingly uncaring of the blade that threatened to slice off his Adam's apple.

"As you were so eager to point out, you're no longer cursed, Barbossa. You can die just like everyone else. You're not immortal any longer," Jack said coldly, the blade steady and unshaken at Barbossa's throat.

"You're not going to kill me, Jack. You need me. If you were going to kill me you would have done it already." The smugness on Barbossa's face was nearly enough for Jack to try anyway.

"Maybe not, Barbossa," Jack acquiesced, moving his sword away. "I need to find out why you were sent back. I'm tired of reacting to these bloody curses. I'm tired of _being _cursed. I'm going to find out whatever this beastie has in store for yours truly and stop it from happening before it does. Simple as that. So no, I won't kill you, Barbossa. But that doesn't mean that I can't make your life _very_ unpleasant," Jack whispered harshly.

"Oh? And what would the charming Miss Swann and the good Commodore think about that, Jack? Would they be horrified to find out what kind of a man you _really_ are?"

"I'm not—"

"No, you're right. If you had been the man whose crew I joined in the very beginning, you never would have allowed a mutiny. You would have killed me for even trying. But you're weak, Jack. You're a fool who parades upon a stage for all the world to see. You're not a pirate. You're a _mockery,_" Barbossa spat the word out as if it left a foul taste in his mouth.

Jack's only response was to bring the butt of his sword down hard on Barbossa's temple, knocking the man out cold. He spun away and walked swiftly down the beach, not bothering to acknowledge either of Barbossa's guards. Barbossa was their problem, not his.

WWW

"We had a deal," Lorelac pointed out needlessly, prowling the confines of his prison with unease. "I agreed to serve you in exchange for my freedom. I was under the impression that beings such as yourself were above such petty things as _lying._"

_Quiet, worm._ _Your buzzing irritates me, _the being called Rasalom muttered back, though not sounding as displeased as its words might otherwise indicate.

Inwardly, Lorelac's pride chafed at such a tone. He was a god! He was Lorelac! He was above the puny creatures of this world! He was to be respected and feared and yet he was treated as less than an animal. He was treated as one of the pathetic mortals he loathed so deeply. Yet he held his tongue. He had been chained and muzzled all for the mere _promise_ of freedom. What a fool he had been! Just as he opened his mouth to tell Rasalom their bargain was finished, that he would find freedom for himself, he was once more cut off.

_Silence! Your salvation comes even now._

A strange sensation was tugging at Lorelac's consciousness, urging him to turn his attention once more back down to the mortal realm where he remained. He did so and waited. Nothing. No salvation, no freedom, nothing. He had been about to complain—he was not known for his patience—when a dark figure emerged from the jungle to stand at the beach. His face was cloaked in deceit and shadow but Lorelac could feel deadly intent and purpose when it was directed his way. The man, for that was what he had to be, opened his mouth to speak to the waves.

"I pledge myself to thee, Lorelac, o god of mischief and storms, of death and destruction. I am ever your faithful servant." The man removed his cloak and walked out to sea clad in nothing more than a simple loin cloth and the swirling intricate black lines of dozens of tattoos. He kneeled in the waves. "I have done your bidding, my lord. I have heard you calling. I have heard your pleas."

Pleas? What pleas? Lorelac knew that this had to be the same man who had sacrificed for him earlier but he had not deigned to speak with him. Was the mortal mad?

_I spoke to him. Pay attention. _

"I have retrieved the crystal, lord! I have stolen from the pirate that which keeps you prisoner! It is yours, lord! I will smash it and you will be free!" The man produced a shining blue crystal on a delicate silver chain and held it triumphantly in the air. Lorelac couldn't believe it. This man, this _mortal _was freeing him? Before Lorelac had time to question the mortal's intentions further, the crystal was shattered upon a sharp rock and he found himself being pulled down into oblivion.

WWW

Cold. He…no, his _feet_ were cold. Feet? He had feet? He looked down to see a pair of legs standing in…water. His legs. He looked up to find himself standing face to face with a mortal man. The _same_ mortal man who had smashed…who had smashed the crystal! "You!" he yelled, his voice booming for he had not yet remembered how to control it.

The man dropped face first into the sea in prostration, offering fealty to the tattoo-covered naked man standing before him in the sea.

Lorelac, yes he was Lorelac again, tilted his head and eyed the mortal. Surely he would drown soon with his face in the water like that. "Get up, servant." The man quickly obeyed, coughing up sea water. "You have freed me and I would not let you so easily die. You will be rewarded for your loyalty."

"Yes, my lord," the man whispered, his voice quavering with devotion.

Lorelac looked down at his hands, _his hands_, with something akin to wonder. "I am flesh." But was he still a god? He turned his attention away from the mortal, who was now professing his name to be something like 'Kiquan' and that he would be his eternal servant, to the sea. Lorelac reached out to the clouds he saw in the distance, to the moisture he knew would be there, and _fle_xed for lack of a better term.

Minutes later, the skies above the madly laughing naked man turned black and thunder assaulted their ears and lighting danced all around him, blinding the mortal and sending him huddling back to the edge of the jungle for protection against the storm's rage.

"I am Lorelac!" Lorelac yelled out to sea, his voice lost in the roar of the storm above his head. He threw his arms outstretched to embrace the warm rain that saturated, plastering his long black hair to his tattoo-covered shoulders. His delighted laughter was cut short by the whisper in his ear that he somehow had no trouble hearing above the storm.

_Remember, Lorelac. You serve me now. I granted you your freedom and I can take it away just as easily. Now, go to the mortal and cover yourself. I have work for you to do._ Rasalom smiled as the storm quickly dissipated and Lorelac moved to do what he was told. Everything was going exactly as planned.

TBC

A/N: Well golly. That only took what, a year and a half to write? What can I say? I'm a slow writer. –innocent grin- To all of you who have stuck it out with me for this long, I love you. Seriously. Without you guys, I would have left this story gathering dust. Thank you so, so much! As to readers of my other fics; I won't be deviating from this one until it's finished. So my House and OUATIM fans, sorry for the wait and thank you ever so much for your patience. Hopefully, the wait won't be too much longer.

Next chapter, the finale (I think) to this particular story: Lorelac walks the earth, Rasalom pulls the strings. Barbossa pushes Jack to the edge and Elizabeth and Norrington strive to bring him back. Oh and did I mention Will?


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